WIO.QTODDARI 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


WINTER    FUN 


BY 


WILLIAM    O.    STODDARD 

AUTHOR  OF  "DAB  KINZER,"  "THE  QUARTET,"  "SALTILLO 
BOYS,"  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

1885 


COPYRIGHT,  1885,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS. 


ELECTROTYPED  AND  PRINTED 

BY    KAMi,   AVERY,   AND   COMPANY, 

BOSTON. 


"    '    UJ 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

ALL  AROUND  A  FIREPLACE  ....  i 


CHAPTER   II. 
RIGHT  OUT  INTO  THE  WOODS 19 

CHAPTER  III. 
THE  RABBIT-HUNT 36 

CHAPTER  IV. 
WINTER  COMFORT 49 

CHAPTER  V. 
A  WINTER  PICNIC-PARTY 65 

CHAPTER  VI. 
THE  DONATION-PARTY 90 


484O99 

LIBRARY 


iv  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VII.  PAGE 

THE  WORD-BATTLE  AT  COBBLEVILLE 104 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
AN  OLD-FASHIONED  SNOW 12° 


CHAPTER  IX. 
GRAND  COASTING    .......       •       •       •       •    '35 

CHAPTER  X. 
THE  DEER-HUNT  ON  THE  CRUST  ........    H6 


CHAPTER  XI. 
ON  THE  ICE    ........       ....    162 

CHAPTER  XII. 
A  VERY  EXCITING  WINTER  EVENING        ......    172 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
A  FIRESIDE  STORY        ..........    186 

CHAPTER   XIV. 
THE  BEAR-TRAP     ...........    16 


CHAPTER  XV. 
THE  NEW  CHESSMEN     ..........    2,4 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
WINTER  FLOWERS  AND  THE  PARTY    ....  .226 


CONTENTS.  v 

CHAPTER  XVII.  PAGE 

THE  SNOW-FORT 24° 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 

Tun  SUGAR-BUSH  AND  THE  BEAR 248 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

THE  FLOOD  AND  THE  END 260 


WINTER    FUN. 


WINTER  FUN. 


CHAPTER   I. 

ALL   AROUND    A   FIREPLACE. 

THE  gate  that  opened  from  the  yard  into  the  lane 
leading  back  to  the  barn  was  directly  opposite  the 
side-door  of  the  house.  The  door  was  shut,  but  the 
gate  was  open ;  and  in  it  stood  a  gray-haired  dame 
with  a  sharp  nose  a>ad  silver-rimmed  spectacles.  The 
house  behind  her  was  a  small  one,  white-painted, 
without  blinds  to  its  windows,  but  with  an  air  of 
snug  comfort  all  over  it.  Just  beyond  the  gate  and 
the  woman  stood  a  tall,  vigorous-looking  young  fellow 
of  not  more  than  eighteen ;  and  his  left  hand  was  on 
the  nose  of  a  nice-looking  horse ;  and  behind  the 
horse  was  a  neat,  bright,  very  red  cutter.  The  boy's 
face  was  also  somewhat  rosy ;  and  so,  for  that  frosty 
moment,  was  the  tip  of  his  mother's  nose. 

"Now,  Lavawjer,  that  there  cutter's  all  you've  got 
to  show  for  about  as  hard  a  month's  work  as  ever 
you  put  in  ;  but  I  won't  say  that  the  deacon  drew  a 
hard  bargain  with  ye." 

i 


2  WINTER  FUN. 

"Well,  mother,  just  look  at  it." 

"  I'm  a-lookin'  at  it,  and  it  isn't  the  cutter  it  was. 
You've  had  it  painted  red,  and  varnished,  and  you've 
put  on  a  new  goose-neck  in  place  of  the  broken  one, 
and  there's  room  in  it  for  two  if  neither  one  on  'em 
was  too  heavy." 

"  That's  so,  mother ;  and  all  you've  got  to  do  is  just 
to  try  it.  I'll  take  you  to  meeting  in  it  next  Sunday. 
You  ought  to  see  how  the  colt  gets  over  the  snow 
with  only  that  cutter  behind  him." 

"  I  ain't  a  bit  sorry  you've  got  somethin'  for  him 
to  do.  You've  been  a-raisin'  on  him  since  before  he 
was  a  yearlin',  and  he  hasn't  earned  his  keep." 

Mrs.  Stebbins  had  made  her  first  look  at  her  son's 
new  cutter  a  severe  and  searching  one,  and  she  told 
him  very  fully  all  her  thoughts  about  it  and  about  the 
sorrel  colt.  She  was  a  faithful  mother ;  but  there 
was  pride  in  her  eye,  and  more  red  on  the  tip  of  her 
nose,  when  she  turned  to  go  into  the  house.  He  did 
not  hear  her  say  to  herself,  — 

"  He's  the  smartest  boy  in  all  Benton  Valley,  and 
now  he's  got  the  nicest  horse  and  cutter,  —  that  is,  for 
his  age,  considerin',  —  and  I  ain't  one  bit  afraid  it'll 
spile  him." 

He  was  now  leading  his  sorrel  pet,  with  the  jaunty 
cutter  following,  out  through  the  lane  to  the  barn. 
It  was  a  grand  thing,  and  out  of  the  common  range 
of  human  events,  for  a  country-boy  of  his  age  to  have 


ALL   AROUND  A   FIREPLACE,  3 

such  an  outfit  all  his  own.  Such  things  can  always 
be  accounted  for,  when  you  find  them  happening. 
If  he  were  not  just  a  little  "spiled,"  it  was  no  fault 
of  his  mother.  She  was  a  widow,  and  he  was  her 
only  son  ;  and  she  had  talked  to  him  and  about  him 
pretty  steadily  from  the  day  he  was  born.  He  looked 
older  than  he  really  was  now,  and  she  often  said  so  ; 
but  she  sometimes  added  that  he  knew  enough  for  a 
man  of  forty.  She  had  named  him  "  Le  Voyageur," 
after  a  great  French  traveller  whose  name  she  had 
seen  in  a  book  when  she  was  a  girl ;  but  the  Valley 
boys  had  massacred  all  the  beauty  of  it,  and  short- 
ened it  into  "Vosh."  No  other  fellow  in  all  that 
country  had  so  very  remarkable  a  nickname. 

"  Now,  Jeff,"  he  said,  as  he  cast  the  sorrel  loose 
from  the  cutter,  "  maybe  there's  a  chance  a-coming 
that  you'll  have  a  better-looking  load  to  haul  next 
time  you're  hitched  in.  I'll  want  ye  to  show  your 
oats  if  you  do." 

That  remark  could  hardly  have  referred  to  Mrs. 
Stebbins  and  her  next  Sunday's  ride  to  the  meeting- 
house ;  but  Jeff  whinnied  gently  in  reply,  as  if  to 
express  his  willingness  for  any  improvement,  and 
Vosh  led  him  into  the  stable. 

"  City  folks  know  some  things,"  he  remarked 
to  Jeff,  while  he  poured  some  oats  in  the  manger ; 
"  but  they  don't  know  what  good  sleighing  is. 
We'll  show  'em,  soon  as  we  get  some  bells ;  and 


4  WINTER  FUN. 

the  deacon's  got  more  buffaloes  than  he  knows  what 
to  do  with." 

That  was  a  good  half-hour  before  supper,  and  he 
seemed  in  no  hurry  to  get  into  the  house ;  but  it  was 
odd  that  his  mother,  at  the  very  same  time,  should 
have  been  talking  to  herself,  in  default  of  any  other 
hearer,  about  "  city  folks "  and  their  ways  and  by- 
ways and  shortcomings.  She  seemed  to  know  a 
great  deal  about  them,  and  particularly  about  their 
general  ignorance  concerning  snow,  ice,  cold  weather, 
and  all  the  really  good  things  of  genuine  winter. 
Both  she  and  her  son  evidently  had  kindly  and  liberal 
feelings  towards  the  hardest  kind  of  frost,  and  were 
free  to  say  as  much,  but  were  in  doubt  as  to  whether 
city  people  could  live  and  be  comfortable  in  such 
weather  as  had  already  come.  Beyond  a  doubt,  they 
were  waiting  for  somebody.  There  is  nothing  else  in 
the  wide  world  that  will  keep  people  talking  as  that 
will ;  and  Mrs.  Stebbins  said  some  things  that  sound- 
ed as  if  she  were  asking  questions  of  the  teakettle. 

Down  the  road  a  little  distance,  and  on  the  other 
side  of  it,  a  very  different  pair  of  people  were  even 
more  interested  in  city  folk,  and  not  in  their  short- 
comings so  much  as  in  the  fact  that  certain  of  them 
seemed  to  be  too  long  a-coming.  They  were  away 
back  in  the  great  old-fashioned  kitchen  of  a  farm- 
house, as  large  as  three  of  the  one  in  which  Mrs. 
Stebbins  was  getting  supper  for  Vosh. 


ALL   AROUND  A   FIREPLACE.  5 

"  Aunt  Judith,  I  hear  'em  !  " 

"  Now,  Pen,  my  child ! " 

The  response  came  from  the  milk-room,  and  was 
followed  by  the  clatter  of  an  empty  tin  milk-pan  fall- 
ing on  the  floor. 

"  It  sounded  like  bells." 

"  It's  the  wind,  Pen.  Sakes  alive  !  but  they  ought 
to  be  here  by  this  time." 

"  There,  aunt  Judith  !  " 

Pen  suddenly  darted  out  of  the  kitchen,  leaving 
the  long  hind-legs  of  a  big  pair  of  waffle-irons  stick- 
ing helplessly  out  from  the  open  door  of  the  stove. 

"Pen!  Penelope  !  — I  declare,  she's  gone.  There, 
I've  dropped  another  pan.  What's  got  into  me  to- 
night ?  I  just  do  want  to  see  those  children.  Poor 
things,  how  froze  they  will  be  I  " 

Penelope  was  pressing  her  eager,  excited  little 
face  close  to  the  frost-flowers  on  the  sitting-room 
window.  It  was  of  no  use,  cold  as  it  made  the  tip 
of  her  nose,  to  strain  her  blue  eyes  across  the 
snowy  fields,  or  up  the  white,  glistening  reaches  of 
the  road.  There  was  nothing  like  a  sleigh  in  sight, 
nor  did  her  sharpest  listening  bring  her  any  sound 
of  coming  sleigh-bells. 

"  Pen  !  Penelope  Farnham  !  What's  that  a-burn- 
in'  ?  Sakes  alive  !  if  she  hasn't  gone  and  stuck  them 
waffle-irons  in  the  fire!  She's  put  a  waffle  in  'em 
too." 


6  WINTER  FUN. 

Yes,  and  the  smoke  of  the  lost  waffle  was  carry- 
ing tales  into  the  milk-room. 

"O  aunt  Judith!  I  forgot.  I  just  wanted  to  try 
one." 

"Jest  like  you,  Penelope  Farnham.  You're  al- 
ways a-tryin*  somethin'.  If  you  ain't  a  trial  to  me, 
I  wouldn't  say  so.  Now,  don't  you  tetch  them  waf- 
fles once  again,  on  no  account." 

"  It's  all  burned  as  black  "  — 

"Course  it  is, — black  as  a  coal.  I'd  ha'  thought 
you'd  ha'  known  better'n  that.  Why,  when  I  was 
ten  years  old  I  could  ha'  cooked  for  a  fam'ly." 

"Guess  I  could  do  that,"  said  Pen  resolutely;  but 
aunt  Judith  was  shaking  out  the  smoking  remains 
of  the  spoiled  waffle  into  the  "pig-pail,"  and  curtly 
responded,  — 

"That  looks  like  it.  You'll  burn  up  the  irons 
yet." 

Half  a  minute  of  silence  followed,  and  then  she 
again  spoke  from  the  milk-room  :  — 

"  IVnelope,  look  at  the  sittin'-room  fire,  and  see  if 
it  wants  any  more  wood  on  it.  They'll  be  chilled 
clean  through  when  they  git  here." 

Pen  obeyed  ;  but  it  only  needed  one  glance  into 
the  great  roaring  fireplace  to  make  sure  that  no  kind 
of  chill  could  keep  its  hold  on  anybody  in  the  vicin- 
f  that  blaze. 

A  stove  was  handier  to  cook  by,  and   therefore 


ALL   AROUND  A   FIKErLACl:.  7 

Mr.  Farnham  had  put  aside  his  old-fashioned  no- 
tions, to  the  extent  of  having  one  set  up  in  the 
kitchen.  The  parlor  too,  he  said,  belonged  to  his 
wife  more  than  it  did  to  him,  and  therefore  he  had 
yielded  again,  and  there  was  a  stove  there  also.  It 
was  hard  at  work  now.  He  had  insisted,  however, 
that  the  wide,  low-ceilinged,  comfortable  sitting-room 
should  remain  a  good  deal  as  his  father  had  left  it  to 
him  ;  and  there  the  fireplace  held  its  wood-devouring 
own.  That  was  one  reason  why  it  was  the  pleasantest 
room  in  the  house,  especially  on  a  winter  evening. 

Penelope  had  known  that  fireplace  a  long  while. 
She  had  even  played  "  hide-and-coop  "  in  it  in  warm 
weather,  when  it  was  bright  and  clean.  But  she 
thought  she  had  never  before  seen  it  so  full.  "  Such 
a  big  back-log !  "  she  exclaimed  aloud.  But  aunt 
Judith  had  followed  her  in  to  make  sure  of  the  con- 
dition of  things,  and  it  was  her  voice  that  added,  — 

"  Yes,  and  the  fore-stick's  a  foot  through.  Your 
father  heaped  it  up  just  before  he  set  out  for  the 
village.  He  might  a'most  as  well  have  piled  the 
whole  tree  in." 

"Father  likes  fire:    so  do  I." 

"  He's  an  awful  wasteful  man  with  his  wood, 
though.  Pen,  just  you  put  down  that  poker.  Do 
you  want  to  have  them  there  top  logs  a-rollin'  across 
the  floor  ? " 

"That  one  lies  crooked." 


g  \n.\TKR   l-'UK. 

"  My  child  !  let  it  be.  I  daresn't  leave  you  alone 
one  minute.  You'll  burn  the  house  down  over  our 
heads,  one  of  these  days." 

Pen  obeyed.  She  slowly  lowered  the  long,  heavy 
iron  rod,  and  laid  it  down  on  the  hearth ;  but  such 
a  fire  as  that  was  a  terrible  temptation.  Almost 
any  man  in  the  world  might  have  been  glad  to  have 
a  good  poke  at  it,  if  only  to  see  the  showers  of 
sparks  go  up  from  the  glowing  hickory  logs. 

"  There  they  come  !  " 

Pen  turned  away  from  the  fire  very  suddenly  ;  and 
aunt  Judith  put  her  hand  to  her  ear,  and  took  off 
her  spectacles,  so  she  could  listen  better. 

"I  shouldn't  wonder." 

"That's  the  sleigh-bells  !  It's  our  sleigh,  I  know 
it  is.  Shall  I  begin  to  make  the  waffles  ? " 

"  Don't  you  tetch  'em.  Pen,  get  out  that  chiny 
thing  your  mother  got  to  put  the  maple-sirup  in." 

"Oh,  I  forgot  that." 

She  brought  it  out  like  a  flash  now ;  and  it  must 
have  been  the  only  thing  she  had  forgotten  when 
she  set  the  table,  for  she  had  walked  anxiously 
around  it  twenty  times,  at  least,  since  she  put  the 
last  plate  in  its  place. 

Faint  and  far,  from  away  down  the  road,  beyond 
the  turn,  the  winter  wind  brought  up  the  merry 
jingle  of  bells.  By  the  time  Pen  had  brought  the 
china  pitcher  for  the  sirup  from  its  shelf  in  the 


ALL   AROUND   A    FIREPLACE.  9 

closet,  and  once  more  darted  to  the  window,  she 
could  see  her  father's  black  team  —  blacker  than 
ever  against  the  snow  —  trotting  towards  the  house 
magnificently. 

"  Don't  I  wish  I'd  gone  with  'em  !  But  it  was 
Corry's  turn.  I  guess  Susie  isn't  used  to  waffles, 
but  she  can't  help  liking  'em." 

That  was  quite  possible,  but  it  might  also  be  of 
some  importance  whether  Penelope  or  aunt  Judith 
should  have  the  care  of  the  waffle-irons. 

Jingle-jangle-jingle,  louder  and  louder,  came  the 
merry  bells,  till  they  stopped  at  the  great  gate,  and 
a  tall  boy  sprang  out  of  the  sleigh  to  open  it.  The 
front-door  of  the  house  swung  open  quicker  than 
did  the  gate,  and  Pen  was  on  the  stoop,  shouting 
anxiously,  — 

"  Did  they  come,  Corry  ?     Did  you  get  'em  ? " 

A  deep  voice  from  the  sleigh  responded  with  a 
chuckle,  — 

"Yes,  Pen,  we  caught  'em  both.  They're  right 
here,  and  they  can't  get  away  now." 

"  I  see  'em  !     There's  cousin  Susie  !  " 

At  that  moment  she  remembered  to  turn  and 
shout  back  into  the  house,  — 

"Aunt  Judith,  here  they  are!  They've  got  'em 
both  !  " 

But  there  was  her  aunt  already  in  the  doorway, 
with  the  steaming  waille-irons  in  one  hand. 


,0  WINTER  FUN. 

"Sakes  alive,  child!  You'll  freeze  the  whole 
house.  Poor  things  !  and  they  ain't  used  to  cold 

weather." 

Aunt  Judith  must  have  had  an  idea  that  it  was 
generally  summer  in  the  city. 

The  sleigh  jangled  right  up  to  the  bottom  step  of 
the  stoop  now.  Mr.  Farnham  got  out  first,  and  was 
followed  by  his  wife.  They  were  followed  by  a  very 
much  wrapped-up  young  lady,  into  whose  arms  Pen 
fairly  jumped,  exclaiming,  — 

"  Susie  !     Susie  Hudson  ! " 

There  were  no  signs  of  frost-bite  on  Susie's  rosy 
checks,  and  she  hugged  Penelope  vigorously.  Just 
behind  her,  a  little  more  dignifiedly,  there  descended 
from  the  sleigh  a  boy  who  may  have  been  two  years 
younger,  say  fourteen  or  fifteen,  who  evidently  felt 
that  the  occasion  called  upon  him  for  his  self-pos- 
session. 

"Pen,"  said  her  mother,  "don't  you  mean  to  kiss 
cousin  Porter  ? " 

Pen  was  ready.  Her  little  hands  went  out,  and 
her  bright,  welcoming  face  was  lifted  for  the  kiss  ; 
but,  if  Porter  Hudson  had  been  a  waffle,  he  would 
not  have  been  burned  by  it  at  all.  It  was  not  alto- 
gether because  he  was  a  boy,  and  a  big  one,  but 
that  he  was  more  a  stranger.  Susie  had  paid  her 
country-cousins  a  long  summer  visit  only  the  year 
before,  while  Porter  had  not  been  seen  by  any  of 


ALL   AROUND  A   FIREPLACE.  II 

them  since  he  was  four  years  old.  Both  he  and 
they  had  forgotten  that  he  had  ever  been  so  small 
as  that. 

Mr.  Farnham  started  for  the  barn,  to  put  away 
his  team,  bidding  Corry  go  on  into  the  house  with 
his  cousins.  Aunt  Judith  was  at  last  able  to  close 
the  door  behind  them,  and  keep  any  more  of  the 
winter  from  coming  in. 

It  took  but  half  a  minute  to  help  Susie  and  Porter 
Hudson  get  their  things  off,  and  then  aunt  Judith 
all  but  forced  them  into  the  chairs  she  had  set  for 
them  in  front  of  the  great  fireplace. 

"  What  a  splendid  fire  !  " 

It  was  Susie  said  that,  with  the  glow  of  it  making 
her  very  pretty  face  look  brighter  and  prettier,  and 
very  happy.  She  had  already  won  aunt  Judith's 
heart  over  again  by  being  so  glad  to  see  her,  and 
she  kept  right  on  winning  it,  needlessly ;  for  every 
thing  about  that  room  had  to  be  looked  at  twice, 
and  admired,  and  told  how  nice  it  was. 

"  It  is  indeed  a  remarkably  fine  fire,"  said  Porter 
with  emphasis,  at  the  end  of  a  full  minute. 

"And  we're  going  to  have  waffles  and  maple- 
sugar  for  supper,"  said  Pen.  "Don't  you  like 
waffles  ? " 

"Yes,"  said  Porter  :  "  they're  very  nice,  no  doubt." 

"  And  after  such  a  sleigh-ride,"  chimed  in  Susie. 
"  The  sleighing  is  splendid,  beautiful !  " 


,2  WINTER  FUN. 

"  More  snow  here  than  you  have  in  the  city  ? " 
suggested  Corry  to  Porter. 

"  Yes,  a  little ;  but  then,  we  have  to  have  ours 
removed  as  fast  as  it  comes  down, — get  it  out  of 
the  way,  you  know." 

"It  isn't  in  the  way  here.  We'd  have  a  high 
time  of  it  if  we  tried  to  get  rid  of  our  snow." 

"  I  should  say  you  would.  And  then  it  does  very 
well  where  the  people  make  use  of  sleighs." 

"  Don't  you  have  'em  in  the  city  ?  " 

Pen  was  looking  at  her  cousins  with  eyes  that 
were  full  of  pity,  but  at  that  moment  aun-t  Judith 
called  to  her  from  the  kitchen,  — 

"  Penelope,  come  and  watch  the  waffle-irons  while 
I  make  the  tea." 

"Waffles!"  exclaimed  Susie.  "I  never  saw  any 
made." 

"  Come  with  me,  then.  I'll  show  you  ;  that  is,  if 
you're  warm  enough." 

"  Warm  !  Why,  I  wasn't  cold  one  bit.  I'm  warm 
as  toast." 

Out  they  went ;  and  there  were  so  many  errands 
on  the  hands  of  aunt  Judith  and  Mrs.  Farnham  just 
then,  that  the  girls  had  the  kitchen  stove  to  them- 
selves [or  a  few  moments.  Pen  may  have  been  six 
years  younger,  but  she  was  conscious  of  a  feeling 
of  immense  superiority  in  her  capacity  of  cook. 
She  kept  it  until,  as  she  was  going  over,  for  Susie's 


ALL   AROUND  A   FIREPLACE.  13 

benefit,  a  list  of  her  neighbors,  and  telling  what  had 
become  of  them  since  the  summer  visit,  Mr.  Farn- 
ham  came  in  at  the  kitchen-door,  and  almost  in- 
stantly exclaimed,  — 

"Mind  your  waffles,  Pen.     You're  burning  'em." 

"Why,  so  I  did,  —  that  one,  just  a  little.  I  was 
telling  Susie"  — 

"A  little,  my  child!"  interrupted  aunt  Judith. 
"  I'd  as  lief  eat  burnt  leather.  Oh,  dear !  give  me 
those  irons." 

"  Now,  aunt  Judith,  please  fill  'em  up  for  Susie  to 
try.  I  want  to  show  her  how." 

The  look  on  Susie's  face  was  quite  enough  to  keep 
aunt  Judith  from  making  a  breath  of  objection,  and 
the  rich  creamy  batter  was  poured  into  the  smoking 
moulds. 

"Don't  you  let  it  burn,  Susie,"  said  Pen.  "They 
want  to  come  out  when  they're  just  a  good  brown. 
I'll  show  you." 

Susie  set  out  to  watch  the  fate  of  that  waffle  most 
diligently ;  but  she  had  not  at  all  counted  on  what 
might  come  in  the  mean  time,  —  a  visitor,  for  in- 
stance. 

Susie  had  already  asked  about  the  Stebbinses,  and 
Pen  had  answered,  — 

"They  know  you're  coming.  Vosh  was  here  this 
very  morning,  and  I  told  him ;  and  he  said  he'd  be 
glad  to  have  you  call  and  see  him." 


I4  WINTER  FUN. 

"  Call  and  see  him  ?     Well." 

No  more  remarks  had  room  to  be  made  in  just 
then ;  for,  only  a  few  minutes  before  aunt  Judith 
poured  out  that  waffle,  Mrs.  Stebbins  had  said  to 
her  son, — 

"  I  heered  the  deacon's  sleigh  come  up  the  road, 
Lavawjer.  Jest  you  take  a  teacup,  and  go  over  and 
borry  a  drawin'  of  tea  of  Miss  Farnham.  Don't  you 
miss  nothin'.  City  ways'll  spile  most  anybody ;  and 
that  there  Hudson  gal  —  Susie,  her  name  was  —  is 
likely  gettin'  stuck  up  enough  by  this  time." 

She  told  him  a  great  deal  more  than  that  before 
he  got  out  of  the  door  with  his  teacup,  and  it  looked 
as  if  he  were  likely  to  have  questions  to  answer 
when  he  should  come  back. 

He  escaped  a  little  unceremoniously,  right  in  the 
middle  of  a  long  sentence.  And  so,  just  when  Susie 
was  most  deeply  absorbed  in  her  experiment,  there 
came  a  loud  rap  at  the  kitchen-door ;  then,  without 
waiting  for  any  one  to  come  and  open  it,  the  door 
swung  back,  and  in  walked  Vosh,  as  large  as  life, 
with  the  teacup  in  his  hand. 

He  did  look  large  ;  but  no  amount  of  frost  or  fire 
could  have  made  him  color  so  red  as  he  did  when 
Susie  Hudson  let  go  of  the  irons,  and  stepped  right 
forward  to  shake  hands  with  him. 

"  How  d'ye  do,  Vosh  ?     How  is  your  mother  ? " 

"  Pretty  well,  thank  you.    How  do  you  do  ?    Moth- 


ALL   AROUND  A   FIREPLACE.  15 

er's  first-rate,  but  she's  wrong  this  time.  I  don't  see 
as  you're  stuck  up  a  bit.  You're  just  like  you  was 
last  summer,  only  prettier." 

The  one  great  weakness  in  the  character  of  Vosh 
Stcbbins  was  that  he  could  not  help  telling  the  truth, 
to  save  his  life.  It  was  very  bad  for  him  sometimes ; 
and  now,  before  Susie  could  smother  her  laugh,  and 
make  up  her  mind  what  to  answer  him,  he  held  out 
his  teacup  to  aunt  Judith. 

"  Miss  Farnham,  mother  told  me  to  borrow  a  draw- 
ing of  tea.  We  ain't  out  of  tea,  by  a  long  ways  ;  but 
she  heard  the  deacon's  sleigh  a-coming,  and  she 
wanted  to  know  if  the  folks  from  the  city'd  got 
here." 

"They've  come,"  said  aunt  Judith  shortly,  "Susie 
and  her  brother.  You  tell  your  mother  I  wish  she'd 
send  me  over  a  dozen  of  eggs.  The  skunks  have 
stolen  ours  as  fast  as  the  hens  have  laid  'em." 

"We've  got  some,"  said  Vosh.  "I'll  fetch  'em 
over.  —  Susie,  where's  your  brother  ? " 

"He's  in  the  sitting-room." 

"Yes,  Vosh,"  said  Pen,  "he's  there.  Walk  right 
in.  Corry's  there  too,  and  mother,  and  —  O  Susie  ! 
Dear  me  !  our  waffle's  burned  again." 

"  Why  !  so  it  is." 

"  Never  mind,  Susie,"  said  aunt  Judith  with  the 
most  hospitable  recklessness,  as  she  shook  out  the 
proceeds  of  that  careless  cookery  upon  a  plate.  "  It's 


,<5  WINTER  FUN. 

only  spiled  on  one  side.  There's  always  some  of  'em 
get  burned.  Some  folks  like  'em  better  when  they're 
kind  o'  crisp.  I'll  fill  ye  up  another." 

Vosh  looked  as  if  he  would  willingly  stay  and  see 
how  the  next  trial  succeeded  ;  but  politeness  required 
him  to  walk  on  into  the  sitting-room,  and  be  intro- 
duced to  Porter  Hudson. 

"Vosh,"  said  Corry,  "  he's  never  been  in  the  coun- 
try in  winter  before  in  all  his  life,  and  he's  come  to 
stay  ever  so  long.  So's  Susie." 

"That's  good,"  began  Vosh;  but  he  was  inter- 
rupted by  an  invitation  from  Mrs.  Farnham  to  stay 
to  supper,  and  eat  some  waffles,  and  he  very  prompt- 
ly replied,  — 

"Thank  you,  I  don't  care  if  I  do.  I  threw  our 
waffle-irons  at  Bill  Hinks's  dog  one  day  last  fall. 
It  most  killed  him,  but  it  busted  the  irons,  and  we've 
been  'tending  to  have  'em  mended  ever  sence.  We 
haven't  done  it  yet,  though,  and  so  we  haven't  had 
any  waffles." 

Aunt  Judith  had  now  taken  hold  of  the  business 
at  the  kitchen  stove ;  for  Susie  had  made  one  tri- 
umphant success,  and  she  might  not  do  as  well  next 
time.  All  the  rest  were  summoned  to  the  supper- 
table. 

The  room  was  all  one  glow  of  light  and  warmth. 
The  maple-sugar  had  been  melted  to  the  exact  degree 
of  richness  required.  The  waffles  were  coming  in 


ALL   AROUND  A   FIREPLACE.  I/ 

rapidly  and  in  perfect  condition.  Everybody  had 
been  hungry,  and  felt  more  so  now ;  and  even  Porter 
Hudson  was  compelled  to  confess  that  the  first  sup- 
per of  his  winter  visit  in  the  country  was  at  least 
equal  to  any  he  could  remember  eating  anywhere. 

"  City  folks,"  remarked  Penelope,  "  don't  know  how 
to  cook  waffles,  but  I'll  teach  Susie.  Then  she  can 
make  'em  for  you  when  you  go  back,  only  you  can't 
do  it  without  milk  and  eggs." 

"We  can  buy  'em." 

"  Of  course  you  can  ;  but  we  lay  our  own  eggs, 
only  they  get  stole.  You'll  have  to  send  up  here  for 
your  maple-sugar." 

"We  can  buy  that  too,  I  guess." 

"  But  we  get  it  right  out  of  the  woods.  You  just 
ought  to  be  here  in  sugar-time." 

"  Pen,"  said  her  father,  "  we're  going  to  keep  'em' 
both  till  then,  and  make  them  ever  so  sweet  before 
we  let  'em  go  home." 

He  was  at  that  moment  glancing  rapidly  from  one 
to  another  of  those  four  fresh  young  faces.  He  did 
not  tell  them  so,  but  he  was  tracing  that  very  curious 
and  shadowy  thing  which  we  call  "  a  family  resem- 
blance." It  was  there,  widely  as  the  faces  varied 
otherwise  ;  and  all  their  years  had  not  taken  it  out  of 
the  older  faces.  Perhaps  the  city  cousins,  with  espe- 
cial help  from  Susie  rather  than  Porter,  had  some- 
what the  advantage  in  good  looks.  They  had  it  in 


1 8  WINTER  FUN. 

dress  also ;  but  when  it  came  to  names  —  well,  aunt 
Judith  herself  had  had  the  naming  of  her  brother's 
children,  and  she  had  done  her  best  by  them.  Pen- 
elope and  Coriolanus  were  every  way  larger  names 
than  Porter  and  Susan ;  and  Vosh  could  have  told 
them  that  there  is  a  great  deal  in  a  name,  if  you  can 
get  it  well  boiled  down  for  every-day  use. 


CHAPTER   II. 

RIGHT   OUT   INTO   THE   WOODS. 

VOSH  STEBBINS  hurried  away  from  Deacon  Farn- 
ham's  pretty  soon  after  supper,  but  he  had  made  no 
sort  of  mistake  in  staying  that  long.  He  had  under- 
stood his  duty  to  his  mother  precisely,  and  he  had 
done  it  to  her  entire  satisfaction.  Almost  her  first 
words,  after  his  return  home,  were,  — 

"  Made  ye  stay  to  tea,  did  they  ?  Well,  I  wouldn't 
have  had  ye  not  to  stay,  for  any  thing.  Susie's 
fetched  along  her  brother  with  her,  has  she  ?  Now, 
jest  you  sit  right  down,  and  tell  me  ;  and  I  won't 
say  one  word  till  you  git  through,  and  I  want  to 
know." 

"  Miss  Farnham  wants  a  dozen  of  eggs." 

"You  don't  say!  Well,  you  jest  take  'em  right 
over,  but  don't  you  wait  a  minute.  They  won't  want 
ye  'round  the  first  evening.  Tell  her  our  poultry's 
doin'  first-rate,  and  I  don't  see  why  she  doesn't  ever 
have  any  kind  of  luck  with  winter  layin'.  She  doesn't 


2Q  WINTER  FUN. 

manage  right,  somehow.  Tell  her  it's  all  in  feedin' 
of  'em.  No  kind  of  hens'll  do  well  onless  they  git 
somethin'  to  eat." 

Vosh  was  counting  his  eggs  into  a  basket,  thirteen 
to  the  dozen  ;  and  he  was  out  of  the  door  with  them 
before  his  mother  had  said  half  she  wished  to  say 
about  the  best  method  for  making  hens  prosper  in 
cold  weather.  He  obeyed  his  orders  excellently, 
however,  and  came  back  at  once  to  make  his  report 
to  his  mother  as  to  the  results  of  his  first  visit ;  that 
is,  he  returned  to  sit  still,  and  put  in  a  few  words 
here  and  there,  while  she  told  him  all  he  had  done 
and  said,  and  a  good  deal  more  than  he  had  said  or 
done,  at  Deacon  Farnham's  tea-table. 

It  looked  at  last  as  if  Mrs.  Stebbins  could  almost 
have  gone  right  on  with  an  account  of  what  was  yet 
doing  and  saying  around  the  great  fire  in  the  sitting- 
room.  Vosh  loved  his  mother  dearly ;  but  he  was 
all  the  while  thinking  of  that  other  fireplace,  and 
wishing  he  were  there  —  not  in  it,  of  course,  but 
sitting  in  front  of  it. 

There  was  indeed  a  great  deal  of  merry  talk 
going  on  there,  but  Mrs.  Farnham  was  a  considerate 
woman.  She  insisted  upon  it  that  her  niece  and 
nephew  must  be  tired  with  their  long  journey,  and 
that  they  should  go  to  bed  in  good  season.  It  was 
of  little  use  for  them  to  assert  the  contrary,  and 
Susie  knew  more  about  country  hours  than  her 


RIGHT  OUT  INTO    THE    WOODS.  21 

brother  did.  The  sitting-room  had  to  be  given  up, 
fire  and  all,  in  favor  of  sleep. 

The  last  words  Porter  Hudson  heard  anybody  say 
that  night  came  from  the  lips  of  Penelope  :  — 

"  You  needn't  wait  for  me  to  ring  the  second  bell 
in  the  morning.  You'd  a  good  deal  better  come 
right  down  into  the  sitting-room,  where  it's  warm." 

It  had  taken  three  generations  of  hard-working 
and  well-to-do  Farnhams  to  build  all  there  was  of 
that  great,  queer,  rambling,  comfortable  old  farm- 
house. Each  owner  had  added  something  on  one 
side  or  the  other,  or  in  the  rear  ;  so  that  there  was 
now*  room  enough  in  it  for  the  largest  kind  of  a 
family.  Porter  Hudson  now  had  a  good-sized  cham- 
ber all  to  himself  ;  but  he  remarked  of  it,  shortly 
after  he  got  in,  — 

"  No  furnace  heaters  in  this  house  ;  of  course  not : 
they  don't  have  such  things  in  the  country." 

No :  nor  was  there  any  gas,  nor  hot  and  cold 
water;  and  the  furniture  was  only  just  as  much  as 
was  really  needed.  He  had  never  before  slept  in  a 
feather-bed ;  but  he  was  not  at  all  sorry  to  burrow 
into  one  that  night,  out  of  the  pitilessly  frosty  air  of 
that  chamber. 

"  How  a  fellow  does  go  down  ! "  he  said  to  him- 
self;  "and  it  fits  all  around  him.  I'll  be  warm  in  a 
minute."  And  so  he  was,  and  with  the  warmth 
came  the  soundest  kind  of  slumber.  The  Farnhams 


22  WINTER  FUN. 

had  kept  any  number  of  geese,  year  after  year,  in 
earlier  days,  and  all  their  feather-beds  were  uncom- 
monly deep  and  liberal. 

Susie  had  Pen  for  a  chum,  and  that  was  a  good 
reason  why  neither  of  them  fell  asleep  right  away. 
It  is  always  a  wonder  how  much  talking  there  is  "to 
be  done.  It  is  a  good  thing,  too,  that  so  many  enter- 
prising people,  old  and  young,  are  always  ready  to 
take  up  the  task  of  talking  it,  even  if  they  have 
to  lie  awake  for  a  while. 

Silence  came  at  last,  creeping  from  room  to  room  ; 
and  there  is  hardly  anywhere  else  such  perfect  silence 
to  be  obtained  as  can  be  had  in  and  about  a  farm- 
house away  up  country,  in  the  dead  of  winter  and 
the  dead  of  night.  It  is  so  still  that  you  can  almost 
hear  the  starlight  crackle  on  the  snow,  if  there  is  no 
wind  blowing. 

Winter  mornings  do  not  anywhere  get  up  as  early 
as  men  and  women  are  compelled  to,  but  it  is  more 
completely  so  on  a  farm  than  in  the  city.  The  cham- 
ber Porter  Hudson  slept  in  was  as  dark  as  a  pocket 
when  he  heard  the  clang  of  Penelope's  first  bell 
that  next  morning  after  his  arrival.  He  sprang  out 
of  bed  at  once,  and  found  his  candle,  and  lighted  it 
to  dress  by.  One  glance  through  the  frosty  windows 
told  him  how  little  was  to  be  seen  at  that  time  of 
the  year  and  of  the  day. 

In  another  instant   all   his    thoughts  went    down 


RIGHT  OUT  INTO    THE    WOODS.  2$ 

stairs  ahead  of  him,  and  centred  themselves  upon 
the  great  fireplace  in  the  sitting-room.  He  dressed 
himself  with  remarkable  quickness,  and  followed 
them.  He  thought  that  he  had  never  in  his  life 
seen  a  finer-looking  fire,  the  moment  he  was  able  to 
spread  his  hands  in  front  of  it. 

Mrs.  Farnham  was  there  too,  setting  the  break- 
fast-table, and  smiling  on  him ;  and  Porter's  next 
idea  was,  that  his  aunt  was  the  rosiest,  pleasantest, 
and  most  comfortable  of  women. 

"  It  would  take  a  good  deal  of  cold  weather  to 
freeze  her,"  he  said  to  himself ;  and  he  was  right. 

He  could  hear  aunt  Judith  out  in  the  kitchen, 
complaining  to  Susie  and  Pen  that  every  thing  in 
the  milk-room  had  frozen.  When  Corry  and  his 
father  came  in  from  feeding  the  stock,  however,  they 
both  declared  that  it  was  a  "  splendid,  frosty,  nipping 
kind  of  a  morning."  They  looked  as  if  it  might  be, 
and  Porter  hitched  his  chair  a  little  nearer  the  fire ; 
but  Corry  added,  — 

"  Now,  Port,  we're  in  for  some  fun." 

"All  right.     What  is  it?" 

"  We're  going  to  the  woods  after  breakfast.  You 
and  I'll  take  our  guns  with  us,  and  see  if  we  can't 
knock  over  some  rabbits." 

"  Shoot  some  rabbits  !  " 

"I'll  take  father's  gun,  and  you  can  take  mine." 

Just  then  Pen's  voice  sounded  from  the  kitchen 
excitedly,  — 


24  WINTER  FUN. 

"  Do  you  hear  that,  Susie  ?  They're  going  to  the 
woods.  Let's  go !  " 

"Oh!  if  they'll  let  us." 

"Course  they  will." 

"  Pen !  Penelope  Farnham  !  Look  out  for  those 
cakes." 

"I'm  turning  'em,  aunt  Judith.  I'm  doing  'em 
splendidly.  —  Susie,  some  of  your  sausages  are  a'most 
done.  Let  me  take  'em  out  for  you." 

"  No,  Pen  :  I  want  to  cook  them  all  myself.  You 
'tend  to  your  cakes." 

Buckwheat-cakes  and  home-made  sausages,  —  what 
a  breakfast  that  was  for  a  frosty  morning ! 

Susie  Hudson  was  puzzled  to  say  which  she  en- 
joyed most,  —  the  cooking  or  the  eating  ;  and  she  cer- 
tainly did  her  share  of  both  very  well  for  a  young 
lady  of  sixteen  from  the  great  city. 

"Port,  can  you  shoot?"  asked  Corry  a  little  sud- 
denly at  table. 

"  Shoot !  I  should  say  so.  Do  you  ever  get  any 
thing  bigger  than  rabbits  out  here  ?  " 

"  Didn't  you  know  ?  Why,  right  back  from  where 
we're  going  this  morning  are  the  mountains.  Not 
a  farm  till  you  get  away  out  into  the  St.  Lawrence- 
river  country." 

"Yes,  I  know  all  that." 

"Sometimes  the  deer  come  right  down,  specially 
in  winter.  Last  winter  there  was  a  bear  came  down 
and  stole  one  of  our  hogs,  but  we  got  him." 


RIGHT  OUT  INTO    THE    WOODS.  2$ 

"  Got  the  hog  back  ?     Wasn't  he  hurt  ? " 

"  Hurt !  Guess  he  was.  The  bear  killed  him. 
But  we  followed  the  bear,  and  we  got  him, — Vosh 
Stebbins  and  father  and  me." 

Porter  tried  hard  to  look  as  if  he  were  quite  ac- 
customed to  following  and  killing  all  the  bears  that 
meddled  with  his  hogs  ;  but  Pen  exclaimed,  — 

"  Now,  Susie,  you  needn't  be  scared  a  bit.  There 
won't  be  a  single  bear  —  not  where  you're  going." 

"  Won't  there  ? "  said  Susie  almost  regretfully. 
"  How  I'd  like  to  see  one  !  " 

There  was  a  great  deal  more  to  be  said  about  bears 
and  other  wild  creatures  ;  and,  just  as  breakfast  was 
over,  there  came  a  great  noise  of  rattling  and  creak- 
ing and  shouting  in  front  of  the  sitting-room  win- 
dows. 

"  There  he  is  !  "  said  Corry. 

Susie  and  her  brother  hurried  to  look ;  and  there 
was  Vosh  Stebbins  with  Deacon  Farnham's  great 
wood -sleigh,  drawn  by  two  pairs  of  strong,  long- 
horned,  placid-looking  oxen. 

"Couldn't  one  pair  draw  it?"  asked  Porter  of 
Corry. 

"  Guess  they  could,  but  two's  easier ;  and,  besides, 
they've  nothing  else  to  do.  We'll  heap  it  up  too. 
You  just  wait  and  see." 

There  was  not  long  to  wait,  for  the  excitement 
rose  fast  in  the  sitting-room,  and  Susie  and  Pen  were 


26  WINTER  FUN. 

in  that  sleigh  a  little  in  advance  of  everybody  else. 
Its  driver  stood  by  the  heads  of  his  first  yoke  of  oxen, 
and  Susie  at  once  exclaimed,  — 

"  Good  -  morning,  Vosh.  What  a  tremendous 
whip ! " 

"Why,  Susie,"  said  Pen,  "that  isn't  a  whip,  it's 
an  ox-gad." 

"That's  it,  Pen,"  said  Vosh;  but  he  seemed  dis- 
posed to  talk  to  his  oxen  rather  than  to  anybody  else. 
The  yoke  next  the  sleigh  stood  on  either  side  of  a 
long,  heavy  "  tongue ; "  but  the  foremost  pair  were 
fastened  to  the  end  of  that  by  a  chain  which  passed 
between  them  to  a  hook  in  their  yoke.  These  latter 
two  animals,  as  Vosh  explained  to  Susie,  "  were  only 
about  half  educated,  and  they  took  more  than  their 
share  of  driving." 

He  began  to  do  it  for  them  now,  and  it  was  half 
a  wonder  to  see  how  accurately  the  huge  beasts  kept 
the  right  track  down  through  the  gate  and  out  into 
the  road.  It  seemed  easier  then,  for  all  they  had  to 
do  was  to  go  straight  ahead. 

"  Let  me  take  the  whip,  do,  please,"  said  Susie ; 
and  Vosh  only  remarked,  as  he  handed  it  to  her,  — 

"  Guess  you'll  find  it  heavy." 

She  lifted  it  with  both  hands ;  and  he  smiled  all 
over  his  broad,  ruddy  face,  as  she  made  a  desperate 
effort  to  swing  the  lash  over  the  oxen. 

"  Go  'long  now  !     Git  ap  !     Cluck-cluck." 


RIGHT  OUT  INTO    THE    WOODS.  2/ 

She  chirruped  to  those  oxen  with  all  her  might, 
while  Vosh  put  his  handkerchief  over  his  mouth,  and 
had  a  violent  fit  of  coughing. 

"You'll  do!"  shouted  her  uncle  from  behind  the 
sleigh.  "That's  first-rate.  I'll  hire  you  to  team  it 
for  me  all  the  rest  of  the  winter.  —  Boys,  you'd  better 
put  down  your  guns.  Lay  them  flat,  and  don't  step 
on  'em." 

Porter  Hudson  had  stuck  to  his  gun  manfully 
from  the  moment  it  was  handed  him.  He  had  car- 
ried it  over  his  shoulder,  slanting  it  a  little  across 
towards  the  other  shoulder.  He  had  seen  whole 
regiments  of  city  soldiers  do  that,  and  so  he  knew  it 
was  the  correct  way  to  carry  a  gun.  He  was  now 
quite  willing,  however,  to  imitate  Corry,  and  put  his 
weapon  down  flat  on  the  bottom  of  the  sleigh.  The 
gun  would  be  safe  there ;  and,  besides,  he  had  been 
watching  Vosh  Stebbins,  and  listening,  and  he  had 
an  idea  it  was  time  he  should  show  what  he  knew 
about  oxen.  They  were  plodding  along  very  well, 
and  Susie  was  letting  them  alone  at  the  moment. 

"Susie,"  he  said,  "give  me  that  gad." 

Vosh  looked  somewhat  doubtful  as  she  surrendered 
the  whip.  They  were  going  up  a  little  ascent,  and 
right  beyond  them  the  fences  on  either  side  of  the 
road  seemed  to  stop.  Beyond  that,  all  was  forest, 
and  the  road  had  a  crooked  look  as  it  went  in  among 
the  trees. 


2g  WINTER  FUN. 

Porter  had  stronger  arms  than  his  sister,  and  he 
could  do  more  with  an  ox-gad.  The  first  swing  he 
gave  the  long  hickory  stock,  the  heavy,  far-reaching 
lash  at  the  end  of  it  came  around  with  a  "  swish," 
and  knocked  the  coon-skin  cap  from  the  head  of 
Vosh.  Then  the  whip  came  down  —  stock,  lash,  and 
all  —  along  the  broad  backs  of  the  oxen. 

"Gee!  Haw!  G'lang !  Get  up!  G'lang  now! 
Haw !  Gee ! " 

Porter  felt  that  his  reputation  was  at  stake.  He 
raised  the  gad  again,  and  he  shouted  vigorously. 
The  tongue-yoke  of  oxen  right  under  his  nose  did 
not  seem  to  mind  it  much,  and  plodded  right  along 
as  if  they  had  not  heard  any  one  say  a  word  to  them  ; 
but  their  younger  and  more  skittish  helpers  in  front 
shook  their  heads  a  little  uneasily. 

"  Gee  !     Haw  !     G'lang ! " 

Porter  was  quite  proud  of  the  way  the  lash  came 
down  that  time,  and  the  cracker  of  it  caught  the 
near  ox  of  the  forward  team  smartly  on  the  left 
ear.  It  was  a  complete  success,  undoubtedly;  but, 
to  Porter's  astonishment,  that  bewildered  yoke  of 
steers  forward  whirled  suddenly  to  the  right.  The 
next  moment  they  were  floundering  in  a  snow-drift, 
as  if  they  were  trying  to  turn  around  and  look  at 
him. 

Perhaps  they  were ;  but  Vosh  at  that  moment 
snatched  the  gad  from  Porter,  and  sprang  out  of  the 


RIGHT  OUT  INTO    THE    WOODS.  2$ 

sleigh,  saying  something,  as  he  went,  about  "not 
wanting  to  have  the  gals  upset."  Corry  was  dancing 
a  sort  of  double  shuffle,  and  shouting,  — 

"  That's  it !  First  time  I  ever  saw  an  ox-team  gee 
and  haw  together.  Hurrah  for  you,  Port ! " 

"  Pen,"  said  Susie,  "  what  does  he  mean  ? " 

"  Mean  ?  Don't  you  know  ?  Why,  it's  '  gee '  to 
turn  'em  this  way,  and  it's  '  haw '  to  turn  'em  that 
way.  They  can't  turn  both  ways  at  once." 

That  double  team  had  set  out  to  do  it  quite 
obediently,  but  Vosh  got  matters  straightened  very 
quickly.  Then  he  stuck  to  his  whip  and  did  his  own 
driving,  until  the  sleigh  was  pulled  out  of  the  road, 
half  a  mile  farther,  into  a  sort  of  open  space  in  the 
forest.  There  was  not  much  depth  of  snow  on  the 
ground,  and  there  were  stumps  of  trees  sticking  up 
through  it  in  all  directions.  Vosh  drove  right  on 
until  he  halted  his  team  by  a  great  pile  of  logs  that 
were  already  cut  for  hauling. 

"  Are  they  not  too  big  for  the  fireplace  ? "  asked 
Susie  of  Pen. 

"  Of  course  they  are,"  said  Pen ;  but  Corry  add- 
ed,- 

"  We  can  cut  up  all  we  want  for  the  stoves  after 
we  get  'em  to  the  house.  The  big  ones'll  cut  in  two 
for  back-logs." 

He  had  been  telling  Porter,  all  the  way,  about  the 
fun  there  was  in  felling  big  trees,  and  that  young 


3o  WINTER  FUN. 

gentleman  had  frankly  proposed  to  cut  down  a  few 
before  they  set  out  after  any  rabbits  or  bears. 

"Just  see  father  swing  that  axe!"  said  Pen 
proudly,  as  the  stalwart  old  farmer  walked  up  to  a 
tall  hickory,  and  began  to  make  the  chips  fly. 

"  It's  splendid ! "  said  Susie. 

Vosh  Stebbins  had  his  axe  out  of  the  sleigh  now, 
and  seemed  determined  to  show  what  he  could  do. 

It  looked  like  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world.  He 
and  the  deacon  merely  swung  their  axes  up,  and  let 
them  go  down  exactly  in  the  right  place  ;  and  the 
glittering  edges  went  in,  in,  with  a  hollow  thud,  and 
at  every  other  cut  a  great  chip  would  spring  away 
across  the  snow. 

"  It  doesn't  take  either  of  them  a  great  while  to 
bring  a  tree  down,"  said  Corry.  "  You  fetch  along 
that  other  axe,  and  we'll  try  one.  They've  all  got  to 
come  down :  so  it  doesn't  make  any  difference  what 
we  cut  into." 

The  girls  were  contented  to  stay  in  the  sleigh  and 
look  on,  and  the  oxen  stood  as  still  as  if  they  in- 
tended never  to  move  again. 

"  Susie  ! "  exclaimed  Pen,  "  here  comes  Ponto.  No- 
body knew  where  he  was  when  we  started." 

There  he  was  now,  however,  —  the  great  shaggy, 
long-legged  house-dog,  —  coming  up  the  road  with  a 
succession  of  short,  sharp  barks,  as  if  he  were  pro- 
testing against  being  left  out  of  such  a  picnic-party 
as  that. 


RIGHT  OUT  INTO    THE    WOODS.  3! 

"  Pen  !  he's  coming  right  into  the  sleigh." 

"  No,  he  ain't.  You'll  see.  He'll  go  after  Corry. 
He's  only  smelling  to  see  if  the  guns  are  here.  He 
knows  what  they  mean." 

"  Will  he  hunt  ? " 

"  I  guess  he  will.  When  father  or  Corry  or  Vosh 
won't  go,  he  goes  off  and  hunts  by  himself,  only  he 
doesn't  bring  home  any  game." 

He  seemed  just  now  to  be  stirred  to  a  sort  of 
frenzy  of  delighted  barking  by  what  his  nose  told 
him,  but  at  the  end  of  it  he  sat  down  on  the  snow 
near  the  sleigh.  No  dog  of  good  common  sense 
would  follow  a  boy  with  an  axe  away  from  the  place 
where  the  guns  were. 

Meantime,  Corry  had  picked  out  a  maple-tree  of 
medium  size,  and  had  cut  a  few  chips  from  it.  It 
was  easy  to  see  that  he  knew  how  to  handle  an  axe, 
if  he  could  not  bury  one  as  deeply  in  the  wood  of  a 
tree  as  could  his  father  or  Vosh.  He  also  knew 
enough  too,  somehow,  to  get  well  out  of  the  way 
when  he  handed  the  axe  to  Porter  Hudson,  remark- 
ing,— 

"  Now,  Port,  cut  it  right  down.  Maybe  it's  a  bee- 
tree." 

"  Bee-tree !  Are  there  any  in  winter  ?  Do  you 
ever  find  any  ?  " 

"  Well,  not  all  the  while ;  but  there  are  bee-trees, 
and  the  bees  must  be  in  'em,  just  the  same,  in  any 
kind  of  weather." 


32  WINTER  FUN. 

That  was  so,  no  doubt ;  but  if  there  had  been  a 
dozen  hives  of  bees  hidden  away  in  the  solid  wood 
of  that  vigorous  maple-tree,  they  would  have  been 
safe  there  until  spring,  for  all  the  chopping  of  Porter 
Hudson.  He  managed  to  make  the  edge  of  the  axe 
hit  squarely  the  first  time  it  struck,  but  it  did  not 
more  than  go  through  the  bark.  No  scratch  like 
that  would  get  a  chip  ready.  Porter  colored  with 
vexation ;  and  he  gave  his  next  cut  a  little  hastily, 
but  he  gave  it  with  all  his  might.  The  edge  of  the 
axe  hit  several  inches  from  the  first  scratch,  and  it 
seemed  to  take  a  quick  twist  on  its  own  account 
just  as  it  struck.  It  glanced  from  the  tree,  and 
away  it  went  into  the  snow,  jerking  its  handle  rudely 
out  of  Porter's  hands. 

"  I  declare ! " 

"  I  say,  Port,  don't  let's  cut  down  any  more  trees. 
Let's  get  our  guns,  and  go  down  into  the  swamp 
for  some  rabbits.  There's  Ponto.  He'll  stir  'em  up 
for  us." 

Porter  was  fishing  for  his  axe  with  a  pretty  red 
face,  and  he  replied,  — 

"I  guess  we'd  better.  I'm  not  much  used  to 
chopping." 

"Of  course  not." 

"We  burn  coal  in  the  city." 

"No  chopping  to  do.  I  know  how  it  is.  Got 
your  axe  ?  Come  on." 


RIGHT  OUT  INTO    THE    WOODS.  33 

All  that  was  very  polite ;  but  Corry  had  less  trou- 
ble now,  in  keeping  up  a  feeling  of  equality  with  his 
city  cousin.  They  were  nearly  of  an  age  ;  but  a  city 
boy  of  fourteen  has  seen  a  great  many  things  that 
one  of  the  same  years,  brought  up  among  the  north- 
ern lakes  and  mountains,  knows  nothing  about,  and 
Corry  had  been  a  little  in  awe  of  Porter. 

They  had  tucked  their  trousers  into  their  boots 
when  they  left  the  house ;  and  now  they  got  their 
guns  out  of  the  sleigh,  slung  their  powder-flasks  and 
shot-pouches  over  their  shoulders,  and  marched  away 
through  the  woods. 

The  two  girls  looked  after  them  as  if  they  also 
were  hungry  for  a  rabbit-hunt.  As  for  Ponto,  that 
very  shaggy  and  snowy  dog  was  plainly  intending  to 
run  between  every  two  trees,  and  through  each  and 
every  clump  of  bushes,  as  if  in  a  desperate  state  of 
dread  lest  he  might  miss  the  tracks  of  some  game  or 
other.  Sniff,  sniff,  sniff,  everywhere !  and  twice  he 
actually  began  to  paw  the  snow  before  he  and  h?s 
two  sportsmen  were  out  of  sight  from  the  sleigh. 

"Boys  can  have  more  fun  in  the  woods  than 
girls,"  began  Susie  half  regretfully. 

"No,  they  can't,  Susie.  Just  you  watch  that  tree. 
It'll  come  down  pretty  quickly.  It'll  make  the 
splendidest  kind  of  a  crash." 

It  was  good  fun  to  watch  that  chopping,  and  see 
the  chips  fly.  Susie  found  herself  becoming  more 


34  WINTER  FUN. 

and  more  deeply  interested,  as  the  wide  notches 
sank  farther  and  farther  into  the  massive  trunks  of 
the  two  trees  her  uncle  and  Vosh  Stebbins  were 
working  on.  Vosh  chopped  for  dear  life ;  but,  in 
spite  of  all  he  could  do,  the  deacon  had  his  tree 
down  first.  It  was  a  tall,  noble-looking  tree.  There 
were  no  branches  near  the  ground,  but  there  was  a 
fine  broad  crown  of  them  away  up  there  where  the 
sun  could  get  at  them  in  summer.  It  seemed  almost 
a  pity  to  destroy  a  forest-king  like  that,  but  at  last 
it  began  to  totter  and  lean. 

"  O  Pen  !  it's  coming." 

"Don't  shut  your  eyes,  Susie:  keep  'em  open,  and 
see  it  come." 

Susie  did  try;  but  when  that  tall,  majestic  trunk 
seemed  to  throw  out  its  great  arms,  and  give  the 
matter  up,  she  could  not  look  any  longer,  and  she 
put  her  head  down.  Then  she  heard  a  tremendous 
dull,  crashing  sound,  and  her  eyes  came  open  to  see 
a  cloud  of  light  snow  rising  from  the  spot  on  which 
the  forest-king  had  fallen. 

"  Isn't  it  splendid  !  " 

"  Yes,  Pen,  it's  wonderful." 

"  Vosh's  tree  is  almost  ready.  There  !  it's  going 
to  go." 

Vosh  had  not  been  as  careful  as  Deacon  Farnham 
in  aiming  the  fall  of  his  tree,  for  it  went  down  into 
the  arms  of  a  smaller  one,  crashing  and  breaking 


RIGHT  OUT  INTO    THE    WOODS.  35 

through  them  ;  and  the  sharp,  snapping  sound  of  the 
crushed  branches  went  far  and  wide  through  the 
silence  of  the  snowy  forest. 

Pen  said  nothing,  and  Susie  was  conscious  of  a 
sort  of  still  feeling,  as  if  she  had  no  further  remarks 
to  make  just  then. 


CHAPTER    III. 

THE   RABBIT-HUNT. 

DEACON  FARNHAM  was  fond  of  chopping  clown 
trees ;  but  he  had  not  brought  a  big  sleigh  into  the 
woods  that  morning,  with  two  yoke  of  oxen,  merely 
to  have  them  stand  still  in  the  snow  while  he  did 
some  chopping.  Such  fires  as  he  kept  up  at  the 
farmhouse  called  for  liberal  supplies ;  and  so  Susie 
was  to  have  an  opportunity  to  see  a  load  of  logs 
put  on. 

She  and  Pen  had  to  get  out  of  the  sleigh,  and 
then  she  expressed  her  wonder  if  her  uncle  and 
Vosh  would  be  strong  enough  to  lift  those  huge 
"  back-log  "  pieces  into  it :  — 

"They  never  can  do  it,  Pen,  not  in  all  the  world." 

"  Lift  'em  !  Of  course  they  won't.  I'll  show  you 
how  they  do  it :  it's  dreadful  easy,  soon  as  you  know 
how." 

It  would  hardly  have  been  as  easy  for  Pen  and 
Susie  as  it  seemed  to  be  for  Vosh  and  the  deacon. 

They  took  all  the  side-stakes  out  of  the  sleigh,  on 
36 


THE  RABBIT-HUNT.  37 

the  side  towards  the  wood-pile ;  and  they  put  down, 
with  one  end  of  each  on  the  sleigh,  and  the  other 
end  in  the  snow,  a  pair  of  long,  strong  pieces  of 
wood  that  Vosh  called  "  skids : "  that  made  an  in- 
clined plane,  and  it  was  nothing  but  good  hard  work 
to  roll  the  logs  up,  and  into  their  places  on  the 
sleigh.  They  made  a  tier  all  over  the  sleigh-bottom, 
and  then  the  lighter  logs  were  piled  on  them  in  regu- 
lar order,  till  the  load  was  finished  off  on  top  with  a 
heap  of  bark  and  brushwood. 

"That'll  crackle  good  when  it  burns,"  said  Vosh. 
"  I  like  brush  on  a  fire  :  don't  you  ?" 

Susie  said  she  did ;  and  she  probably  told  the 
truth,  for  she  was  beginning  to  think  she  liked  every 
thing  in  the  country,  even  in  winter. 

"  Now,  Pen,"  said  Vosh,  "  if  you  and  Susie'll  climb 
up,  we'll  set  out  for  home  with  this  load." 

"  Isn't  your  father  coming,  Pen  ? " 

"  No,  Susie,  I  guess  he  won't." 

"  Will  he  stay  here  and  chop  trees  all  alone  ? " 

"He  says  he  likes  it,  and  he  isn't  a  bit  afraid  of 
being  alone.  There's  a  man  .at  the  house  to  help 
Vosh  when  we  get  there.  Now,  Susie,  we  must 
climb." 

There  was  fun  in  that,  but  Pen  was  up  first. 

"  Is  your  dress  caught,  Susie  ?  —  Vosh,  help  Susie  : 
she's  caught  on  a  splinter." 

"I'll  help  her." 


38  WINTER  FUN. 

"  No,  you  needn't.  There,  it  isn't  torn  much.  — 
Now,  Pen,  do  you  think  the  oxen  can  pull  such  a 
load  as  this  ?  " 

"Of  course  they  can." 

In  a  minute  or  so  more,  Susie  began  to  have  new 
ideas  about  the  management  of  oxen,  and  how  strong 
they  were,  and  how  wonderfully  willing.  They 
seemed  to  know  exactly  what  to  do,  with  a  little 
help  from  Vosh  and  his  long  whip.  When  all  was 
ready,  and  they  bowed  their  horns,  and  strained 
against  their  yokes  with  their  powerful  necks,  it 
seemed  as  if  they  could  have  moved  any  thing  in  the 
world. 

One  long  strain,  a  creaking  sound,  and  then  a 
sudden  giving-way  and  starting,  and  the  snow  began 
to  crunch,  crunch,  beneath  the  wide,  smooth  runners 
of  the  sleigh.  Vosh  walked  beside  his  team,  and 
drove  it  away  around  in  a  semicircle,  carefully 
avoiding  trees  and  stumps,  until  he  and  his  load 
were  once  more  in  the  road,  and  on  their  way 
home. 

"  Hark  ! "  exclaimed  Susie  just  then.  "  Was  that 
the  report  of  a  gun,  or  was  it  the  sound  of  another 
tree  falling  ? " 

"  Guess  it  was  a  gun,"  said  Vosh.  "  It's  one  of 
the  boys  shooting  at  something.  Plenty  of  game, 
if  they  can  hit  it." 

If  they  had  been  listening  with  any  kind  of  atten- 


THE  RABBIT-HUNT.  39 

tion,  they  might  have  heard  a  similar  sound  before, 
although  the  place  where  the  boys  were  was  at  some 
distance  from  what  Vosh  called  "the  clearing." 

Corry  and  Porter  had  pushed  on  after  Ponto  as 
best  they  could ;  but  he  had  not  stirred  up  for  them 
any  game  in  the  thick,  gloomy  forest. 

"  No  rabbits  here,"  said  Porter. 

"Sometimes  there  are  a  few,"  said  Corry;  "but 
this  isn't  the  place.  We're  most  there  now :  we'd 
better  load  up." 

"  The  guns,  —  aren't  they  loaded  ? " 

"  No.  We  never  leave  a  charge  in.  Father  says 
a  gun's  always  safe  when  it's  empty." 

Corry  put  the  butt  of  his  gun  on  the  ground  while 
he  spoke,  and  Porter  watched  him  narrowly. 

"  That's  his  powder-flask,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  I 
might  have  known  that  much.  The  powder  goes  in 
first :  of  course  it  does." 

He  had  never  loaded  a  gun  in  all  his  life,  and  his 
experience  with  the  axe  had  made  him  feel  a  little 
cautious.  Still  he  tried  to  make  quick  work  of  it ; 
and,  when  Corry  began  to  push  down  a  wad  of  paper 
after  the  powder,  his  city  cousin  did  the  same  thing, 
only  he  was  a  little  behindhand,  and  he  put  in  a 
much  bigger  wad  of  paper. 

"How  he  does  ram  it!  So  will  I,"  Porter  re- 
marked. 

"Don't  put   too   many  shot   into   that   gun.     I'll 


' 


40 


WINTER  FUN. 


measure  'em  for  you.  You'll  know  next  time.  It 
scatters  too  much  if  you  overcharge  it." 

Porter  was  wondering  at  that  very  moment  how 
many  shot  he  had  better  put  in,  or  whether  he 
should  try  the  big  shot  from  one  side  of  his  shot- 
pouch,  or  the  smaller  shot  from  the  other. 

"  What  are  the  big  ones  for  ?  "  he  asked,  when  he 
saw  Corry  choose  the  smaller  size. 

"  Buckshot  ?  Oh  !  you  can  kill  almost  any  thing 
with  buckshot,  —  deer,  or  even  bear." 

"Can  you?  I  never  used  'em.  Thought  they 
were  big  for  rabbits." 

He  was  glad  to  know  his  gun  was  correctly  loaded, 
however;  and  he  imitated  Corry  in  putting  on  the 
caps  for  both  barrels,  as  if  he  had  served  a  long 
apprenticeship  at  that  very  business. 

"  We  haven't  reached  the  swamp  yet,  have  we  ? " 

"  No,  but  we  have  a'most.  It's  a  great  place  for 
rabbits,  when  you  get  there.  Halloo !  Ponto's 
started  one  !  Come  on,  Port ! " 

They  did  not  really  need  to  stir  a  foot,  for  the 
swift  little  animal  the  dog  had  disturbed  from  his 
seat  among  the  bushes  was  running  his  best  right 
toward  them. 

"  There  he  is  ! "  shouted  Porter. 

"Try  him,  Port." 

"  No,  you  try  him." 

Corry's  gun  was  at  his  shoulder,  and  in  another 
second  the  bright  flash  leaped  from  the  muzzle. 


THE  RABBIT-HUNT.  ^    4! 

"  Did  you  hit  him  ?  He  didn't  stop  running :  he 
kept  right  on." 

"Missed  him,  I  guess.  Too  many  trees,  and  it 
was  a  pretty  long  shot." 

"  Why,  it  didn't  seem  far." 

"  Didn't  it  ?  That's  'cause  it  was  over  the  snow  : 
it  was  more'n  ten  rods.  Hark  !  hear  Ponto  !  " 

The  old  dog  was  barking  as  if  for  dear  life,  and 
the  boys  ran  as  fast  as  the  snow  would  let   them.. 
They  had  not  far  to  go  before  they  could  see  Ponto 
dancing  around  the  foot  of  a  huge  beech-tree. 

"  If  he  hasn't  treed  him  ! " 

"  Treed  a  rabbit !  Why,  do  you  mean  they  can 
climb  ? " 

"  Climb  !  Rabbits  climb  !  I  guess  not.  But  that 
tree's  hollow.  See  that  hole  at  the  bottom?  The 
rabbit's  in  there,  sure." 

"  Can  we  get  him  ? "  , 

"We'll  try,  but  it  won't  pay  if  it  takes  too  long, — 
just  one  rabbit." 

Porter  Hudson  had  a  feeling  that  it  would  be 
worth  almost  any  thing  in  the  world  to  catch  that 
rabbit.  He  hardly  knew  how  to  go  to  work  for  it ; 
but  he  felt  very  warm  indeed  while  his  cousin  stooped 
down  and  poked  his  arm  deeper  and  deeper  into  the 
hole  in  the  tree.  It  did  not  go  down,  but  up ;  and 
it  was  a  pretty  big  one  at  its  outer  opening. 

"  Is  it  a  hollow  tree,  Corry  ?  " 


42  WINTER  FUN. 

"  Guess  not,  only  a  little  way  up." 

"  Can  you  feel  him  ?  " 

"Arm  isn't  long  enough." 

Ponto  whimpered,  very  much  as  if  he  understood 
what  his  master  was  saying.  That  was  probably 
not  the  first  runaway  game  which  had  disappointed 
him  by  getting  into  a  den  of  safety  of  one  kind  or 
another. 

"  Hey,  Port !     Here  he  comes  !  " 

"  Got  him,  have  you  ? " 

"There  he  is." 

Corry  withdrew  his  arm  as  he  spoke,  and  held  up 
in  triumph  a  very  large,  fat,  white  rabbit. 

"You  did  reach  him." 

"No,  I  didn't.  Some  of  my  shot  had  hit  him, 
and  he  came  down  the  hole  of  his  own  weight. 
Don't  you  see  ?  They  didn't  strike  him  in  the  right 
place  to  tumble  him  right  over :  he  could  run." 

"  Poor  fellow  !  "  said  Porter  :  "  he  won't  run  any 
more  now." 

It  was  of  small  use  to  pity  that  rabbit,  when  the 
one  thought  uppermost  in  his  mind  was  that  he 
could  not  go  home  happy  unless  he  could  carry  with 
him  another  of  the  same  sort,  and  of  his  own 
shooting. 

Corry  loaded  his  gun  again,  and  on  they  went  ; 
but  pretty  soon  he  remarked,  — 

"  We're  in  the  swamp  now,  Port." 


THE  RABBIT-HUNT.  43 

"  I  don't  see  any  swamp  :  it's  all  trees  and  bushes 
and  snow  " 

"  That's  so,  but  there's  ice  under  the  snow  in 
some  places.  You  can't  get  through  here  at  all 
in  the  spring,  and  hardly  in  summer.  It's  a  great 
place  for  rabbits." 

Ponto  was  doubtless  aware  of  that  fact,  for  he  was 
dashing  to  and  fro  most  industriously. 

There  were  plenty  of  little  tracks  on  the  snow, 
as  the  boys  could  now  plainly  see  ;  but  they  crossed 
each  other  in  all  directions,  after  a  manner  that  puz- 
zled Porter  Hudson  exceedingly. 

"  How  will  he  find  out  which  one  of  them  he'd 
better  follow  up  ?  " 

"Wait,  Port:  you'll  see." 

Porter  was  taking  his  first  lesson  as  a  sportsman, 
and  was  peering  anxiously  behind  trees  and  in 
among  the  nearest  bushes.  Suddenly  he  saw  some- 
thing, or  thought  he  saw  it,  which  made  him  hold 
his  breath  and  tremblingly  lift  his  gun. 

"Can  that  be  a  real  rabbit,"  he  thought,  "sitting 
there  so  still  ?  " 

He  did  not  utter  a  loud  word  ;  and  the  first  Corry 
heard  about  it  was  from  both  barrels  of  his  cousin's 
gun,  fired  in  quick  succession.  Bang,  bang !  they 
went. 

"  What  is  it,  Port  ? " 

"  I've  got  him  !     I've  got  him  ! " 


44  WINTER  FUN. 

He  was  bounding  away  across  the  snow,  and  disap- 
peared among  some  thick  hazel-bushes.  A  moment 
more,  and  he  was  out  again,  with  a  rabbit  in  his  hand 
every  ounce  as  big  as  the  one  Corry  had  killed. 

"  First-rate,  Port !     Was  he  running  ? " 

"  No,  he  was  sitting  still,  and  listening  for  some- 
thing." 

Corry  was  too  polite  to  say  that  no  regular  sports- 
man fired  at  a  rabbit  unless  it  was  running.  It  would 
have  been  a  pity  to  have  dampened  Porter  Hudson's 
tremulous  exultation  over  his  first  game. 

He  held  that  rabbit  up,  and  looked  at  it,  until  he 
grew  red  in  the  face. 

He  had  no  time  to  talk  then  ;  for  he  had  his  gun 
to  load,  and  he  was  in  no  small  anxiety  as  to  whether 
he  should  succeed  in  getting  the  charge  in  rightly. 
Besides,  there  was  Ponto  racing  across  the  farther 
side  of  the  swamp,  with  a  big  rabbit  just  ahead  of 
him.  He  was  a  capital  jumper,  that  rabbit,  and  he 
was  gaining  on  his  harking  pursuer  when  he  ran  out 
within  range  of  Corry  Farnham's  gun. 

Only  one  barrel  was  fired,  but  Ponto's  master  was 
ahead  again. 

"  Two  to  my  one,"  said  Porter. 

"  You'll  have  chances  enough.  Don't  you  let  off 
both  barrels  every  time,  though,  or  you  may  lose 
some  of  'em.  Fill  your  rabbits  all  full  of  shot,  too, 
like  that  one." 


THE  RABBIT-HUNT.  45 

Port's  idea  had  been  that  both  barrels  of  his  gun 
were  there  for  the  purpose  of  being  fired  off,  but  he 
was  quite  ready  to  take  a  hint.  He  had  more  and 
more  serious  doubts,  however,  about  his  ability  to 
hit  a  rabbit  on  the  run.  The  first  time  he  actually 
tried  to  do  it,  he  doubted  more  than  ever.  His 
chance  and  his  disappointment  came  to  him  a  little 
after  Corry's  gun  was  loaded,  and  while  they  were 
crossing  the  swamp. 

"  I  must  have  hit  him,"  he  said,  as  he  lowered  his 
gun,  and  looked  after  the  rabbit  he  had  fired  at,  and 
which  was  still  clearing  the  snow  with  long,  vigorous 
jumps. 

"Well,  if  you  did,"  said  Corry,  "he  hasn't  found 
it  out  yet." 

"  Your  first  one  didn't  find  out  he  was  hit  till  he 
got  into  the  tree." 

"That's  so.  But  I  never  knew  it  to  happen  just  so 
before.  Ponto's  after  that  one  again  !  He's  turned 
him  around  those  sumach-bushes.  He's  coming  this 
way.  Give  him  your  other  barrel.  Shoot  ahead  of 
him." 

Porter  was  positive,  in  his  own  mind,  that  he  could 
not  hit  that  rabbit,  and  he  felt  himself  blushing  as  he 
raised  his  gun ;  but  he  tried  to  see  the  rabbit  some- 
where beyond  the  end  of  it,  and  then  he  blazed  away. 

"  I  declare  !  you've  done  it !  A  good  long  dis- 
tance too." 


46  WINTER  FUN. 

It  was  so  very  long,  that  the  shot  had  scattered  a 
great  deal,  and  one  of  the  little  leaden  pellets  had 
strayed  in  the  direction  of  that  rabbit, — just  one, 
but  it  was  as  good  as  a  dozen,  for  it  had  struck  in  a 
vital  spot ;  and  Porter  was  as  proud  as  if  the  skin  of 
his  game  had  been  filled  with  shot-holes. 

"  I'm  even  with  you  now." 

"  That's  so.  If  you  only  had  practice,  you'd  shoot 
well  enough." 

Almost  two  hours  went  by,  after  that,  and  they 
tramped  all  over  the  swamp.  Porter  killed  another 
sitting  rabbit ;  but  Corry  was  again  one  ahead  of 
him,  and  was  feeling  half  sorry  for  it,  when  he  sud- 
denly stopped  marching,  and  lifted  his  hand,  exclaim- 
ing,— 

"  Hear  Ponto  !     Hark !     Away  yonder !  " 

"Started  another  rabbit." 

"No,  he  hasn't.     It  isn't  any  rabbit  this  time." 

"What  is  it?     What  is  it?" 

"Hear  that  jumping?  Hear  Ponto's  yelp?  It's 
a  deer." 

"  Deer !  Did  you  say  it  was  a  deer  ?  Can  you 
tell?" 

"  Hark !     Listen  ! " 

Ponto  was  no  deer-hound.  He  was  somewhat  too 
heavily  built  for  that  kind  of  sport ;  but  any  deer  of 
good  common  sense  would  get  away  from  his  neigh- 
borhood, all  the  same.  The  certainty  that  the  dog 


THE   RABBIT-HUNT.  47 

could  not  catch  him  would  not  interfere  with  his 
running. 

Ponto's  discovery  was  a  really  splendid  buck, 
and  he  was  in  a  terrible  hurry  when  his  long, 
easy  bounds  brought  him  out  from  among  the  forest- 
trees  into  the  more  open  ground  in  the  edge  of  the 
swamp.  Porter  thought  he  had  never  before  seen 
any  thing  half  so  exciting,  but  the  buck  went  by  like 
a  flash. 

Just  half  a  minute  later,  Corry  turned  ruefully  to 
his  cousin,  and  asked  him,  — 

"  Port,  what  did  you  and  I  fire  both  barrels  of  our 
guns  for  ?  " 

"Why,  to  hit  the  deer." 

"  At  that  distance  ?  And  with  small  shot  too  ? 
If  they'd  reached  him,  they'd  hardly  have  stung  him. 
Let's  go  home." 

Porter  was  ready  enough  ;  and  it  was  not  long  be- 
fore even  Ponto  gave  up  following  the  buck,  and  came 
panting  along  at  the  heels  of  his  master.  He  looked 
a  little  crestfallen,  as  if  he  were  nearly  prepared  to 
remark,  — 

"  No  use  to  drive  deer  for  boys.  I  did  my  duty. 
No  dog  of  my  size  and  weight  can  do  more." 

They  had  a  tramp  before  them.  Not  that  they 
were  so  far  from  home,  but  then  it  was  one  long 
wade  through  the  snow  until  they  reached  the  road ; 
and  Porter  Hudson  knew  much  more  about  the 


48  WINTER  FUN. 

weight  of  rabbits  by  the  time  he  laid  his  game  down 
at  the  kitchen-door  of  the  farmhouse. 

They  had  been  growing  heavier  and  heavier  all  the 
way,  until  he  almost  wished  he  had  not  killed  more 
than  one. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

WINTER     COMFORT. 

SUSIE  and  Pen  had  a  grand  ride  to  the  farmhouse 
on  the  wood-sleigh. 

Perched  away  up  there  on  top  of  the  brushwood, 
they  could  get  the  full  effect  of  every  swing  and 
lurch  of  the  load  under  them.  Vosh  Stebbins  had 
to  chuckle  again  and  again,  in  spite  of  his  resolute 
politeness  ;  for  the  girls  would  scream  a  little,  and 
laugh  a  great  deal,  when  the  sleigh  sank  suddenly  on 
one  side  in  a  snowy  hollow,  or  slid  too  rapidly  after 
the  oxen  down  a  steeper  slope  than  common.  It 
was  great  fun ;  and,  when  they  reached  the  house, 
Susie  Hudson  almost  had  to  quarrel  with  aunt  Judith 
to  prevent  being  wrapped  in  a  blanket,  and  shoved 
up  in  a  big  rocking-chair  into  the  very  face  of  the 
sitting-room  fireplace. 

"Do  let  her  alone,  Judith,"  said  aunt  Farnham. 
"  I  don't  believe  she's  been  frost-bitten." 

"I'm  not  a  bit  cold." 

49 


5Q  WINTER  FUN. 

"I'm  real  glad  o'  that,"  said  aunt  Judith;  "but 
ain't  you  hungry?  —  Pen,  you  jest  fetch  up  some 
kruilers." 

Susie  admitted  that  she  could  eat  a  kruller,  and 
Pen. had  no  need  to  be  told  twice. 

When  Vosh  came  back  from  the  woods  with  his 
second  load,  it  was  dinner-time ;  and  Deacon  Farn- 
ham  came  with  him.  Only  a  few  minutes  later, 
there  was  a  great  shouting  at  the  kitchen-door,  and 
there  were  the  two  boys.  The  whole  family  rushed 
out  to  see  what  they  had  brought  home,  and  Susie 
thought  she  had  never  seen  her  brother  look  quite 
so  tall. 

"  Corry  beat  ye,  did  he  ?  "  said  Vosh  as  he  turned 
the  rabbits  over.  Something  in  the  tone  of  that 
remark  seemed  to  add,  "  Of  course  he  did ;  "  and 
Port  replied  to  it,  — 

"  Well,  he's  used  to  it.  I  never  fired  a  gun  before 
in  all  my  life." 

That  was  a  frank  confession,  and  a  very  good  one 
to  make ;  for  the  deacon  exclaimed,  — 

"  You  never  did !  I  declare !  then  you've  done 
tip-top.  You'll  make  a  marksman  one  of  these 
days." 

"I  hit  two  of  my  rabbits  on  the  full  run,  anyhow." 

"  How  about  the  deer  ? "  said  Vosh  with  a  sly 
look.  "  Did  you  hit  him  on  the  run  ?  " 

"When  you   meet   him,"   said   Corry,   "you   can 


WINTER   COMFORT.  5  I 

just  ask  him.  He's  the  only  fellow  that  knows  :  I 
don't." 

"  Like  as  not  he  doesn't  either." 

"Vosh,"  said  Mrs.  Farnham,  "tell  your  mother  to 
come  over  with  you  after  tea,  and  spend  the  evening." 

"  She'll  come :  I  know  she  will.  I'll  finish  my 
chores  early." 

He  swung  his  axe  to  his  shoulder,  and  marched 
away,  very  straight,  with  a  curious  feeling  that  some 
city  people  were  looking  at  him. 

The  boys  and  the  girls  and  the  older  people  were 
all  remarkably  ready  for  that  dinner  as  soon  as  it 
was  on  the  table. 

"Pen,"  said  Susie,  "I  didn't  know  chopping  down 
trees  would  make  me  so  hungry." 

"Yes,"  said  Deacon  Farnham,  "it's  as  bad  as  kill- 
ing deer.  Port  and  Corry  are  suffering  from  that. 
You  did  your  chopping,  as  they  did  their  deer-killing, 
at  a  safe  distance." 

After  dinner  it  was  a  puzzle  to  everybody  where 
the  time  went,  it  got  away  so  fast.  Pen  took  Susie 
all  over  the  house,  and  showed  her  every  thing  in  it, 
from  the  apples  in  the  cellar  to  the  spinning-wheel 
that  had  been  carried  up  stairs  the  day  before,  and 
would  have  to  come  down  again  to-morrow. 

"Aunt  Judith's  got  a  pile  of  wool,  Susie.  You 
ought  to  see  it.  She's  going  to  spin  enough  yarn  to 
last  her  all  next  summer." 


52  WINTER  FUN. 

"I'll  get  her  to  teach  me  to  spin." 

"  Can  you  knit  ?  If  you  can't,  I'll  teach  you  how. 
It's  awful  easy,  as  soon  as  you  know." 

Susie  told  Pen  about  her  tidies  and  crochet-work 
and  some  other  things,  and  was  getting  a  little  the 
best  of  it,  until  Pen  asked  very  doubtfully,  — 

"Can  you  heel  a  stocking?  It's  worse,  a  good 
deal,  than  just  to  narrow  'em  in  at  the  toes.  Aunt 
Judith  says  there  ain't  many  women  nowadays  that 
can  heel  a  stocking." 

"  I'll  make  her  show  me  how.  Dear  me,  Pen  !  did 
you  know  how  late  it  is  ?  Where  can  all  the  time 
have  gone  to  ? " 

Corry  and  Porter  knew  where  a  part  of  theirs  had 
gone,  after  they  got  back  from  the  barns,  and  deliv- 
ered to  Mrs.  Farnham  and  aunt  Judith  the  eggs  they 
had  found.  Corry  got  out  his  checker-board,  and 
laid  it  on  the  table  in  the  sitting-room. 

"  It's  a  big  one,"  said  Porter.  "  Where  are  your 
men?" 

"  Hanging  up  there  in  that  bag.  The  wooden  men 
got  lost.  We  take  horse-chestnuts  for  black  men, 
and  walnuts  for  white  ones." 

"  S'pose  you  make  a  king  ? " 

"That's  a  butternut,  if  it's  black.  If  it*s  white, 
you  put  on  one  of  those  chunks  of  wood." 

There  was  no  danger  of  their  getting  out  of  check- 
er-men ;  but  Corry  Farnham  had  a  lesson  to  learn. 


WINTER   COMFORT.  53 

Porter  Hudson  knew  a  great  deal  more  about 
checkers  than  he  did  about  tree-chopping  or  rabbits. 

Game  after  game  was  played,  and  it  seemed  to 
Corry  as  if  his  cousin  "  hit  some  of  them  on  a  full 
run."  He  got  up  from  the  last  one  they  played,  feel- 
ing a  very  fair  degree  of  respect  for  Port ;  and  the 
latter  was  pretty  well  restored  to  his  own  good  opin- 
ion of  himself. 

That  was  something,  for  all  his  morning's  expe- 
riences had  been  a  little  the  other  way  ;  and  he  was 
not  half  sure  he  could  again  hit  a  running  rabbit,  if 
he  should  have  a  chance  to  try. 

Susie  and  Pen  had  watched  them  for  a  while,  but 
both  boys  had  been  very  obstinate  in  not  making  any 
of  the  good  moves  Pen  pointed  out  to  them. 

There  were  chores  to  do  both  before  and  after 
tea ;  and  Porter  went  out  with  Corry,  determined  on 
undertaking  his  share  of  them. 

"  Did  you  ever  milk  cows,  Port  ? " 

"  Well,  no,  I  never  did ;  but  I  guess  I  could  if  I 
tried." 

"Well,  I  guess  you'd  best  not  try  to-night,  but 
you  can  learn  before  you  go  home.  Some  of  our 
cows  are  skittish  in  cold  weather." 

Port  was  quite  contented,  after  getting  into  the 
cowyard,  to  let  the  milking  be  done  by  some  one 
who  knew  how  ;  and  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing 
Corry  kicked  over  into  the  snow  —  pail,  milk,  and  all 


54  WINTER  FUN: 

—  by  a  brindled  heifer  who  had  no  need  of  any  kind 
of  weather  to  bring  out  her  natural  skittishness. 

There  were  pigs  and  cattle  and  horses  to  feed, 
and  supper  to  be  eaten ;  and  when,  at  last,  the  boys 
had  finished  their  duties,  the  rest  of  the  family  was 
already  gathered  in  the  sitting-room. 

Mrs.  Farnham  and  aunt  Judith  had  their  knitting ; 
and  the  deacon  had  a  newspaper  in  his  lap,  with  his 
spectacles  lying  in  the  middle  of  it.  It  seemed, 
however,  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world,  that 
they  should  all  be  sitting  in  a  great  semicircle  in 
front  of  the  fireplace.  The  night  promised  to  be  a 
cold  one,  and  the  fire  had  been  built  for  it  in  the 
most  liberal  manner. 

"Corry,"  said  Porter,  "what  are  all  those  flat-irons 
and  hammers  for  ? " 

"Why,  to  crack  nuts.  I'm  going  down  cellar  to 
bring  'em  up,  —  butternuts  and  hickory-nuts.  There 
was  a  big  crop  of  'em  last  fall." 

"I'll  go  with  you." 

"  So  will  I,"  said  Pen.  "  Come,  Susie,  and  we'll 
bring  up  the  apples  and  pears  and  some  cider." 

"Now,  Pen,"  said  aunt  Judith,  "look  out  you 
don't  leave  the  cider  runnin',  like  you  did  once. 
You  may  fetch  up  a  cake  of  maple-sugar,  if  anybody 
wants  any.  And  don't  you  tetch  them  hard  russets. 
They  won't  be  fit  to  eat  till  spring." 

Aunt  Judith's  instructions  continued  almost  with- 


WINTER   COMFORT.  55 

out  cessation,  till  the  young  folk  were  all  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  cellar-stairs.  Corry  and  Pen  carried 
candles ;  but  the  light  of  these  only  served  to  make 
that  cellar  look  ten  times  larger  and  darker  and 
more  mysterious.  It  seemed  as  if  it  had  neither 
sides  nor  ends ;  but  the  heavy  black  beams  over- 
head were  not  so  wonderfully  far  away.  Pen  showed 
Susie  bin  after  bin  of  carefully  selected  winter  apples 
and  pears,  and  there  were  half  a  dozen  barrels  of 
cider  ranged  against  the  wall. 

"  It's  all  pretty  sweet  now,  but  it'll  be  hard  enough 
some  time.  Then  some  of  it'll  make  vinegar." 

"  What's  in  the  little  barrel  ?  " 

"Aunt  Judith's  currant-wine.  She  says  it'll  be 
the  best  wine  in  the  world  when  it's  old  enough. 
Whenever  anybody  in  the  Valley  gets  sick,  she  takes 
a  bottle  of  it,  and  goes  there." 

"  She's  real  good." 

"  Susie,  look  at  all  the  mince-pies  on  the  swing- 
shelf." 

"  Ever  so  many  !  " 

Scores  of  them,  for  the  swing-shelf  ran  the  whole 
length  of  the  cellar  right  down  the  middle,  and  it 
held  double  rows  of  pies  all  ready  to  be  carried  up 
and  warmed  for  use.  Susie  would  have  been  willing 
to  stay  a  few  minutes,  and  look  at  the  treasures  in 
that  cellar;  but  Corry  suddenly  exclaimed, — 

"  Port,  let's  hurry.  They've  come.  Don't  you 
hear  Mrs.  Stebbins  ?  " 


56  WINTER  FUN. 

Just  a  little  before  that,  aunt  Judith  up  stairs  had 
turned  to  the  deacon  with  the  remark,  — 

"Joshaway,  I  knew  she'd  come  with  Vosh.  You 
can  always  hear  her  before  she  gets  to  the  gate; 
leastwise,  on  a  quiet  night  like  this.  I  remember 
one  night  it  was  a-stormin',  and  the  wind  blew  so 
hard  she  got  right  up  to  the  door,  and  I  hadn't 
heard  a  sound  till  she  had  her  hand  on  the  latch." 

They  could  hear  her  now. 

"And,  Lavawjer,  you  must  just  mind  one  thing: 
you  mustn't  talk  too  much.  Let  them  do  their  own 
talkin',  specially  Susie.  I  can't  begin  to  tell  what 
kind  of  a  gal  she's  growin'  up  to  be,  onless  I  can 
hear  her  talk." 

"Then  Vosh'll  have  to  keep  a-givin'  his  mother 
somethin'  to  eat,"  snapped  aunt  Judith  :  "  she  never 
stops  talkin'  any  other  time." 

Mrs.  Farnham  herself,  while  the  young  people 
were  down  stairs,  had  thoughtfully  walked  out  into 
the  storeroom  adjoining  the  kitchen,  and  returned 
with  a  long-handled  wire  corn-popper,  and  a  bag  of 
what  she  called  "'tucket  corn."  It  was  corn  with 
small,  round,  blue-black  kernels,  that  can  pop  out 
larger  and  whiter,  for  its  size,  than  any  other  kind 
that  grows.  There  is  a  legend  that  the  seed  of  it 
came  originally  from  the  island  of  Nantucket  ;  but  it 
has  short  "nubbin"  ears,  and  even  the  island  Indians 
must  have  found  it  a  poor  crop  for  any  thing  but 
popping. 


WINTER   COMFORT.  57 

Mrs.  Stebbins  was  at  the  door  now ;  and  she 
never  dreamed  of  knocking,  and  waiting  out  there 
in  the  cold  until  somebody  should  come  to  let  her 
in.  She  was  hardly  over  the  threshold,  before  she 
said,  as  she  loosened  her  shawl,  — 

"Judith,  where  is  Susie  and  her  brother,  and 
Corry  and  Pen  ?  They  haven't  gone  away  some- 
where the  very  first  night,  have  they  ?  Vosh  he  told 
me  they'd  be  at  home,  and  I  just  thought  I'd  come 
over." 

"They're  down  cellar.  They'll  be  right  up  in  a 
minute.  Now,  Angeline,  you  jest  take  off  your  hood 
and  sit  down. — Vosh,  there's  a  chair.  Hadn't  you 
better  take  that  popper  and  set  to  work  ? " 

"  Vosh  tells  me,"  continued  his  mother,  "  the  boys 
got  half  a  dozen  of  rabbits  to-day.  I  don't  care 
much  for  rabbits,  but  their  hind-legs'll  do  to  brile. 
And  they  seen  a  deer  too.  I'd  ha'  thought  they 
might  ha'  shot  it,  if  it  was  nigh  enough.  But  then, 
deer  isn't  anyways  like  as  easy  to  kill  as  they  was 
when  I  was  a  gal.  And  they  was  only  a  couple  of 
boys.  I  do  say,  now,  here  they  come,  and  they're 
makin'  racket  enough  for  twenty." 

They  were  coming  indeed,  streaming  up  out  of 
the  cellar,  with  every  pair  of  hands  full  and  a  little 
more ;  and  Mrs.  Stebbins  did  not  stop  for  an  instant. 

"  Susie,  is  that  you  ?  Well,  now,  I  must  kiss  you 
right  away.  Vosh  said  you  was  lookin'  real  pretty, 


58  WINTER  FUN. 

and  so  you  be  ;  but  he  ain't  always  a  good  jedge.  I 
knowed  your  mother  when  she  wasn't  no  older'n 
you  be  now.  She  was  Joshaway  Farnham's  sister. 
And  so  she's  gone  South  for  her  health,  and  your 
father's  gone  with  her,  and  you've  come  to  put  in 
the  rest  of  your  winter  up  here  ?  —  I  do  declare,  La- 
vawjer,  ef  you  ain't  kerful,  you'll  burn  up  every  ker- 
nel of  that  corn.  Don't  you  stop  to  talk,  and  gawk 
around.  Jest  you  tend  to  your  corn-poppin'." 

She  had  managed  to  get  up  from  her  chair  and 
kiss  Susie  without  interrupting  the  steady  clack  of 
her  tongue  ;  but  she  was  a  little  out  of  breath  for  a 
moment,  and  sat  still  and  watched  them  while  they 
deposited  upon  the  table  the  tall  brown  pitcher  of 
cider,  the  pans  of  fruit,  and  the  maple-sugar.  The 
young  folks  had  a  chance  to  say  a  word  to  Vosh, 
and  Corry  and  Porter  each  picked  up  a  flat-iron  and 
a  hammer.  There  were  plenty  of  nuts  ready  for 
them  ;  and  the  sound  of  the  cracking,  and  of  the 
rattling,  bursting  corn  in  the  popper,  mingled  oddly 
with  Susie's  efforts  to  answer  the  rapid  inquiries 
poured  upon  her  by  Mrs.  Stebbins. 

"  Now,  Susie,  I'm  glad  you've  come.  You're  right 
from  the  city,  and  you're  a  well-grown  gal  now,  and 
you  know  all  about  the  fashions.  We  don't  hear  a 
word  about  'em  up  here  away  till  they've  all  come 
and  gone,  and  somethin'  else  is  in  fashion.  Got  to 
wcarin'  short  dresses,  hev  they  ?  Think  of  me,  or 


WINTER   COMFORT,  59 

Judith,  or  your  aunt  Sarah  Farnham,  in  short 
dresses !  Wearin'  panners  too.  I  do  say !  What 
won't  they  put  on  next !  Last  thing  they  got  up  was 
them  little  skimp  skirts  for  hard  times,  that  came  so 
nigh  bein'  the  ruin  of  the  dry-goods  men.  Didn't 
take  no  cloth  at  all.  —  Lavawjer,  you're  a-talkin'  again. 
You  just  tend  to  your  pop-corn." 

"Now,  Angeline,"  said  Mrs.  Farnham,  "do  take 
an  apple,  or  a  pear." 

"Yes,  Angeline,"  said  aunt  Judith,  "and  here's 
a  plate  of  popped  corn,  and  some  nuts. — Joshaway, 
pour  her  out  a  mug  of  cider.  —  Pen,  go  to  the  cup- 
board and  fetch  a  plate  of  krullers.  It's  the  coldest 
kind  of  a  night." 

"So  it  is,"  began  Mrs.  Stebbins,  "but  the  winters 
ain't  what  they  used  to  be.  No  more  the  butternuts 
aren't,  somehow ;  but  I  must  say,  you  make  out  to 
have  good  fruit,  though  how  you  do  it  in  these 
times  beats  me.  Our  trees  die  out." 

Likely  as  not  they  did ;  but  the  attack  had  fairly 
begun,  and  poor  Mrs.  Stebbins  found  herself  out- 
numbered. The  deacon  pressed  her  with  the  cider, 
and  Mrs.  Farnham  with  the  krullers.  There  was 
the  heaped-up  plate  of  snowy  white  popped  corn, 
and  beside  it  was  the  tempting  little  hill  of  cracked 
hickory-nuts  and  butternuts.  Susie  broke  off  for 
her  a  noble  piece  of  maple-sugar;  and  aunt  Judith 
herself  took  a  candle,  and  went  down  cellar  for  a 


60  WINTER  FUN. 

couple  of  the  best  mince-pies.  It  was  all  too  much 
for  conversation  of  the  kind  Mrs  Stebbins  delighted 
in. 

"  O  Vosh  !  "  suddenly  exclaimed  Susie.  "  Corry 
told  us  this  morning  about  the  bear  you  killed  last 
winter." 

It  was  cruel  to  mention  such  a  thing  just  as  Mrs. 
Stebbins  had  lifted  a  kruller,  and  she  began  to  say,  — 

"  Yes,  about  that  bear.  Lavawjer's  father  "  —  But 
she  had  to  pause  a  moment,  and  Vosh  took  it  up 
with,  — 

"  No,  Susie,  I  didn't  kill  him :  I  guess  it  was  all 
three  of  us.  He  was  chockfull  of  lead  when  he  rolled 
over.  We  weren't  twenty  feet  from  him.  Deacon 
Farnham  he  fired  first,  and  then  I  did,  and  Corry ; 
and  we  all  had  double-barrelled  guns,  and  we  didn't 
one  of  us  miss.  But  it  was  a  big  bear  "  — 

"Biggest  kind,"  said  Corry,  "or  he  never  could 
ha"  lifted  a  fat  hog  clean  out  of  the  pen  the  way  he 
did." 

"  I  knowed  a  bear,"  began  Mrs.  Stebbins ;  but 
aunt  Judith  interrupted  her  with,  — 

"  Now,  Angeline,  do  take  a  slice  of  mince-pie. 
It's  cold,  but  sometimes  it's  better  cold  than  it  is 
when  it's  warm." 

The  pie  was  too  much  for  the  memory  of  that 
other  bear. 

The  sound  of  popping  corn  and  cracking  nuts  had 


WINTER   COMFORT.  6 1 

been  almost  incessant,  and  the  young  people  had 
now  succeeded  in  breaking  all  the  ice  the  fire  had 
left  in  that  sitting-room.  They  were  old  acquaint- 
ances all  around,  and  were  chatting  away  merrily 
among  themselves,  with  less  and  less  reference  to 
what  might  be  going  forward  among  the  old  folk  by 
the  table. 

Mrs.  Farnham  and  aunt  Judith  seemed  to  keep 
right  along  with  their  knitting,  whatever  else  they 
might  be  doing.  It  seemed  to  do  itself,  a  great  deal 
like  their  breathing.  Even  the  deacon  managed  to 
look  into  the  corners  of  his  newspaper  while  he 
pared  an  apple,  or  talked  to  Mrs.  Stebbins.  The 
light  of  the  great  astral-lamp  on  the  table  mingled 
with  that  from  the  fireplace  in  a  sort  of  reddish- 
golden  glow,  that  flickered  over  the  walls  and  faces 
in  a  way  to  make  every  thing  and  every  body  wear  a 
warm,  contented,  cosey  look,  that  was  just  the  right 
thing  for  a  frosty  winter  evening. 

By  and  by  there  came  almost  a  full  half-minute  of 
silence,  and  at  the  end  of  it  Vosh  burst  out  as  if  an 
idea  had  taken  him  by  surprise. 

"  I  do  declare !  I  never  saw  any  thing  jollier'n 
this  is,  in  all  my  born  days." 

"Vosh,"  said  Corry,  "Port  can  beat  you  at  check- 
ers. You  ought  to  have  seen  the  way  he  beat  me 
to-day.  You  just  try  him  a  game." 

"  Now,  Lavawjer,"  said  his  mother  from  beyond 


62  WINTER  FUN. 

the  table,  "  you  kin  play  well  enough  for  way  up  here, 
but  you  can't  think  of  comin'  up  to  sech  a  young 
feller  as  Porter  Hudson.  He'll  beat  ye,  sure." 

At  all  events,  he  needed  no  more  than  that  to  make 
him  try  to  do  it ;  and  Penelope  brought  out  the  great 
square  board,  and  the  bag  of  home-made  checkers. 

It  must  be  confessed,  that,  after  his  triumphant 
experience  with  Corry,  Porter  Hudson  imagined  him- 
self to  have  quite  taken  the  measure  of  up-country 
skill  and  science  at  that  game.  He  sat  down  to  his 
new  trial,  therefore,  with  a  proud  assurance  of  a  vic- 
tory to  come.  It  would  have  been  kind  of  Corry  to 
have  given  his  cousin  the  least  bit  of  a  warning,  but 
that  young  gentleman  had  been  himself  too  roughly 
handled  to  feel  very  merciful.  Besides,  he  had  some 
very  small  and  lingering  doubt  as  to  the  result,  and 
was  willing  to  wait  for  it. 

He  need  not  have  had  any  doubt,  since  there  was 
really  no  room  for  any.  Vosh  was  a  born  checker- 
player,  and  it  is  never  easy  to  beat  a  fellow  of  that 
sort.  Nobody  ever  knows  exactly  how  they  do  it, 
and  they  themselves  cannot  tell.  Their  spare  men 
get  to  the  king-row,  and  their  calculations  come  out 
right ;  and  if  you  are  Porter  Hudson,  and  are  playing 
against  them,  you  get  beaten  very  badly,  and  there's 
no  help  for  you. 

Corry  watched  that  game  with  a  suppressed 
chuckle,  but  it  was  a  dreadful  puzzle  to  Port.  Even 


WINTER  COMFORT.  63 

Pen  did  not  venture  to  suggest  a  single  good  move, 
and  the  older  people  talked  very  quietly. 

Mrs.  Stebbins  was  a  proud  woman  when  Susie 
exclaimed,  — 

"  Vosh  has  won  it ! " 

It  was  of  no  use  for  aunt  Judith  to  say,  — 

"Won't  you  have  another  slice  of  pie,  Angeline, 
and  some  more  cider  ? " 

Mrs.  Stebbins  responded,  — 

"  I  don't  keer  if  I  do.  Only  I'm  afeard  it'll  make 
me  dream  and  talk  in  my  sleep.  Lavawjer  always 
did  play  checkers  mighty  spry,  but  he  ain't  the  player 
his  father  was  when  he  was  a  young  man.  He  didn't 
have  no  time  to  play  checkers  after  he  got  to  runnin' 
a  farm  of  his  own.  Pie  ?  Yes,  Judith,  you've  got 
jest  the  right  knack  of  makin'  mince-pies."  And 
while  she  went  on  to  tell  of  the  various  good  and  bad 
pies  she  had  seen  or  tasted,  all  the  rest  agreed  with 
her  about  those  they  were  eating.  In  fact,  the  good 
things  of  all  sorts  went  far  to  reconcile  even  Porter 
Hudson  to  his  defeat,  and  Vosh  was  truly  polite 
about  that.  In  less  than  two  minutes  he  managed 
to  get  the  other  boys,  and  even  the  girls,  talking 
about  hunting,  skating,  coasting,  sleigh-riding,  and 
catching  fish  through  the  ice. 

The  evening  seemed  to  melt  away,  it  went  so  fast ; 
and  no  one  was  willing  to  believe  how  late  it  was 
when  Mrs.  Stebbins  began  to  put  on  her  hood.  They 


64  WINTER  FUN. 

all  saw  her  and  Vosh  to  the  door,  and  did  not  close 
that  until  the  gate  shut  behind  the  last  words  the 
good  woman  succeeded  in  sending  back  to  them. 

It  was  something  about  boiled  cider  in  mince-pies, 
but  they  failed  to  get  it. 


CHAPTER  V. 

A   WINTER   PICNIC-PARTY. 

THE  Stebbins  farm  was  not  a  large  one,  and  nei- 
ther its  house  nor  barns  compared  well  with  Deacon 
Farnham's ;  but  there  was  a  great  deal  to  be  done  in 
and  around  them,  even  in  winter.  Vosh  was  a  busy 
boy,  therefore,  the  next  morning,  and  his  mother  was 
a  busy  woman  ;  and  it  was  not  until  an  hour  after 
breakfast  that  she  said  to  him,  — 

"Now,  Lavawjer,  you  jest  hitch  up  that  there  new 
red  cutter  of  yourn,  and  fetch  it  around.  I  want 
you  to  drive  me  to  Benton  Village,  and,  if  I  can't 
find  what  I  want  there,  I'm  goin'  right  on  to  Cobble- 
ville." 

Vosh  had  been  thinking  up  a  series  of  excuses  for 
going  over  to  the  deacon's,  but  he  made  no  mention 
of  them ;  and  it  was  a  credit  to  him  that  his  new 
turnout  was  so  soon  standing,  all  ready,  by  the  front 
gate. 

It  was  not  a  bad  idea,  that  his  first  long  drive  in 

65 


66  WINTER  FUN. 

it  should  be  with  his  mother ;  but  he  had  a  string  of 
surprises  before  him  that  day. 

The  first  came  in  the  fact  that  his  mother  was 
unaccountably  silent,  and  that,  whenever  she  did  open 
her  lips,  she  had  something  to  say  about  economy. 
Then  she  talked  a  little  of  the  wickedness  and 
vanity  of  buying  or  wearing  any  thing  "just  for 
show."  City  people,  she  freely  declared,  were  doing 
that  very  thing  all  the  while,  and  she  was  glad  enough 
no  one  alive  could  accuse  her  of  it. 

Vosh  was  quite  sure  she  was  right ;  but  he  could 
not  help,  when  they  drove  by  Deacon  Farnham's, 
and  he  saw  the  girls  at  the  window,  being  a  little 
glad  that  his  cutter  was  of  so  bright  a  red,  and  so 
remarkably  well  varnished. 

Benton  Village  was  right  down  there  in  the  valley, 
and  the  sorrel  colt  pulled  them  there  in  so  short  a 
time  that  it  was  no  sleigh-ride  at  all. 

Mrs.  Stebbins  said  as  much,  after  she  had  bought 
some  tea  and  sugar  at  one  store,  and  some  raisins 
and  some  coffee  at  another. 

"  They  haven't  got  what  I  want,  Lavawjer.  You 
kin  drive  right  along  to  Cobbleville.  There  never 
was  better  sleighin',  not  even  when  I  was  a  gal." 

That  was  a  great  deal  for  her  to  admit,  and  Vosh 
put  the  colt  to  his  very  best  speed  along  the  well- 
travelled  road  to  Cobbleville.  That  was  several  long 
miles,  but  they  were  strangely  silent  ones. 


A    WINTER  PICNIC-PARTY.  6/ 

"  \Vhere  shall  I  pull  up,  mother?"  asked  Vosh  as 
they  drove  into  the  one  long  street  of  the  village. 

"  You  kin  make  your  first  stop  right  there,  at  old 
Gillis's  harness-shop.  I  want  to  look  at  some  o' 
them  things  in  his  front  winder." 

Something  or  other  must  have  winked  at  Vosh ; 
for  he  was  out  of  that  cutter,  and  had  his  colt  hitched 
in  front  of  Gillis's,  in  about  half  his  usual  time. 

"  Lavawjer,"  she  said  to  him  as  she  paused  on  the 
sidewalk,  "don't  you  ever  buy  a  thing  just  for  show. 
You  mustn't  ever  let  your  vanity  get  the  best  of 
you." 

Two  minutes  later  she  was  holding  in  her  right 
hand  a  very  useful  string  of  sleigh-bells,  and  saying 
to  him,  — 

"  Now,  Lavawjer,  if  you're  ever  drivin'  along  after 
dark,  you  won't  be  run  into.  Anybody'll  know  you're 
there,  by  the  jingle.  I'll  kinder  feel  safer  about  ye." 

Vosh  thought  he  had  not  often  seen  less  vanity  in 
any  thing  than  there  was  in  those  bells,  and  he  was 
thinking  of  going  right  out  to  put  them  on  the  sorrel, 
when  his  mother  exclaimed,  — 

"  There !  that's  what  I've  been  a-lookin'  for,  —  that 
there  red  hoss-blanket,  with  the  blue  border  and  the 
fringe.  Jest  tell  me  what  the  price  of  it  is." 

It  was  only  a  very  little,  the  best  blanket  in  the 
shop  ;  and  she  said  to  her  son.  — 

"  I  don't  know  but  it's  kinder  showy.     You  can't 


68  WINTER  FUN. 

exactly  help  that.  But  it  won't  do  for  you  to  let 
that  colt  of  yourn  git  warm,  drivin'  him  sharp,  and 
then  let  him  catch  cold  when  you  hitch  him.  You 
must  take  keer  of  him,  and  see't  he  has  his  blanket 
on.  You'll  find  it  mighty  useful." 

"  Guess  I  will ! "  said  Vosh,  with  a  queer  feeling 
that  he  ought  to  say  something  grateful,  and  didn't 
know  how.  He  was  thinking  about  it,  when  his 
mother  said  to  him,  — 

"  That  there  headstall  of  yourn  is  gettin'  cracked, 
and  the  check-rein  might  break  some  day.  The  rest 
of  your  harness'll  do  for  a  while.  It's  always  safe  to 
have  your  leather  in  good  condition." 

No  doubt ;  and  the  sorrel  colt  was  a  different-look- 
ing animal  when  Vosh  exchanged  the  head-gear  he 
had  worn  coming,  for  the  new  rig  the  careful  Mrs. 
Stebbins  bought  for  him. 

"  Now,  Vosh,  there  isn't  any  thing  else  I  want  in 
Cobbleville,  but  you  may  drive  through  the  main 
street,  and  we'll  take  a  look  at  the  town." 

He  unhitched  the  colt,  and  sprang  in  after  her. 
The  new  headstall,  check-rein,  and  the  bells  were 
already  in  their  places.  The  brilliant  blanket  was 
spread  across  their  laps  as  they  sat  in  the  cutter. 
Vosh  touched  up  the  sorrel,  and  all  the  Cobbleville 
people  who  saw  that  turnout  dash  up  the  street  for 
half  a  mile  and  back  again  were  compelled  to  ad- 
mit that  it  was  decidedly  a  neat  one. 


A    WINTER  PICNIC-PARTY.  69 

"Now,  Lavawjer,"  said  his  mother,  "don't  you 
never  do  nothin'  jest  for  show.  If  you  want  to  take 
Judith  Farnham  or  her  sister,  or  Penelope,  or  Susie 
Hudson,  out  a-sleighin',  they  won't  need  to  turn  up 
their  noses  at  the  rig  you  come  after  'em  in." 

They  had  all  been  talking  of  Vosh  and  his  mother 
that  morning  at  Deacon  Farnham's,  and  it  was  plain 
that  the  good  qualities  of  the  Stebbins  family  were 
fully  understood  by  their  next-door  neighbors.  The 
boys  hoped  Vosh  would  come  over  in  the  course  of 
the  day,  but  he  did  not.  The  next  day  was  Saturday, 
and  still  he  did  not  come.  He  was  at  work  in  his 
own  barn,  shelling  corn  for  dear  life,  to  let  his  mother 
know  how  fully  he  appreciated  her  generosity.  He 
felt  that  it  would  take  an  immense  deal  of  hard  work 
to  express  all  he  felt  about  the  bells  and  the  blanket, 
not  to  speak  of  the  bright  bits  of  new  harness. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  and  Deacon  Farnham's 
entire  household  went  to  meeting  down  at  Benton 
Village.  Almost  all  they  saw  of  Vosh  was  when  they 
turned  around  to  look  at  the  choir.  Susie  only  did 
that  once,  for  she  somehow  connected  her  catching 
his  eye  with  the  fact  that  he  just  then  started  on 
the  wrong  stanza  of  the  hymn  they  were  singing, 
and  so  got  himself  looked  at  by  the  choir-leader. 

The  next  day,  just  after  tea,  Vosh  came  over  "to 
have  a  word  with  Deacon  Farnham,"  and  he  had  an 
errand  of  some  importance  this  time.  Corry  and 


70  WINTER  FUN. 

Porter  stood  by,  with  their  mouths  wide  open,  while 
he  delivered  it.  He  was  just  inside  the  kitchen-door ; 
and  Susie  and  Pen  were  sitting  on  the  other  side  of 
the  stove,  paring  apples. 

"There  was  a  man  came  by  to-day  from  one  of 
the  lumber  camps  way  up  among  the  mountains. 
He  was  on  his  way  to  town  for  supplies  and  things. 
He  says  the  road  to  Mink  Lake's  good  enough  for  a 
sleigh." 

"All  the  way?"  asked  the  deacon  somewhat 
doubtfully. 

"  Every  inch  of  it :  I  asked  him.  Now,  why 
couldn't  we  go  in  for  a  mess  of  pickerel  ?  " 

"  And  a  grand  sleigh-ride  !  "  exclaimed  Corry. 

"  And  an  old-fashioned  winter  picnic  !  "  added  aunt 
Sarah  Farnham.  "  How  would  you  like  that,  Susie  ?  " 

"  A  winter  picnic  !  I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing. 
How  do  you  do  it  ?  Seems  to  me  it  would  be  splen- 
did, if  you  could." 

"  A  picnic,  a  picnic  !  "  shouted  Pen.  "  Fishing 
through  the  ice,  Susie,  and  —  and  —  there's  ever  so 
many  other  things.  —  Mother,  can  we  go  ? " 

Vosh  Stebbins  had  spoken  only  about  the  pickerel, 
but  the  larger  enterprise  was  what  had  really  been 
upon  his  mind.  Before  he  went  home  it  had  been 
thoroughly  discussed,  and  pretty  well  arranged  for. 

"Corry,"  said  Port  after  Vosh  went  away,  "what 
sort  of  a  place  is  Mink  Lake  ? " 


A    WINTER  PICNIC-PARTY.  /I 

"It's  the  prettiest  kind  of  a  lake.  It's  a  great 
place  to  go  to  in  summer, — just  crowded  with  fish." 

"  Is  it  far  ?  " 

"About  eight  or  nine  miles,  right  through  the 
woods  and  around  among  the  mountains.  Crooked- 
est  road  you  ever  saw.  It's  apt  to  be  snowed  up  in 
winter ;  but  we  haven't  had  any  deep  snow  yet,  and 
it  hasn't  drifted  much,  somehow." 

"  What  kind  of  fish,  —trout  ? " 

"Yes,  there's  trout,  but  there's  more  bass  and 
pickerel  and  perch.  You're  apt  to  be  awfully  both- 
ered with  pumpkin-seeds  in  summer." 

Port  was  silent.  He  wanted  to  ask  about  the 
pumpkins,  and  how  the  seeds  could  bother  a  fellow 
when  he  was  fishing  for  trout.  After  a  minute  or 
so,  he  uttered  one  word,  — 

"  Pumpkin-seeds  ? " 

"Crowds  of  'em.  They're  the  meanest  kind  of 
fish.  Bite,  bite,  bite,  and  you  keep  pulling  'em  in, 
all  the  while  you  want  something  bigger." 

"  Can't  you  eat  'em  ?  " 

"  Yes,  they're  good  to  fry,  but  they're  full  of  bones. 
Not  enough  of  'em." 

"  They  won't  bite  in  winter,  will  they  ? " 

"  Hope  not.  Tell  you  what,  Port,  we're  in  for  the 
biggest  kind  of  a  time." 

That  was  an  exciting  evening.  Nobody  seemed 
to  want  to  go  to  bed,  and  the  semicircle  around  the 


72  WINTER  FUN. 

fireplace  talked  of  hardly  any  thing  else  but  fishing 
and  hunting.  Deacon  Farnham  himself  came  out 
with  some  stories  aunt  Judith  said  she  hadn't  heard 
him  tell  for  more  than  a  year.  Porter  and  Susie  had 
no  stories  to  tell,  but  they  could  listen.  The  former 
went  to  bed  at  last,  with  a  vague  feeling  that  he 
would  rather  go  to  Mink  Lake.  It  was  a  good  while 
before  he  got  to  sleep,  and  even  then  he  had  a  won- 
derful dream.  He  dreamed  he  was  trying  to  pull  a 
fish  as  large  as  a  small  whale  through  a  sort  of 
auger-hole  in  some  ice.  He  pulled  so  hard,  he  woke 
himself  up ;  but  he  could  roll  over  and  go  to  sleep 
soundly,  now  the  fish  was  gone. 

The  house  was  early  astir  in  the  morning ;  and 
Deacon  Farnham's  long,  low  box-sleigh,  drawn  by 
his  two  big  black  horses,  was  at  the  door  by  the 
time  they  were  through  breakfast.  Mrs.  Farnham 
had  decided  not  to  go,  because,  as  she  said,  — 

"  It's  Judith's  turn.  Somebody's  got  to  stay  and 
keep  house." 

It  had  required  some  argument  to  persuade  aunt 
Judith  that  it  was  her  duty  to  go,  but  she  had  taken 
hold  of  the  preparations  with  a  will.  It  was  wonder- 
ful what  an  amount  of  wrapping-up  she  deemed  ne- 
cessary for  herself  and  all  the  rest. 

"  Why,  Judith,"  said  the  deacon,  "  it's  a  good  deal 
warmer  in  the  woods  than  it  is  out  here." 

"I've  heerd  tell  so,  and   mebbe    it's   true,  but    I 


A    WINTER  PICNIC-PARTY.  73 

don't  put  any  trust  in  it.  I've  no  notion  of  bein' 
frost-bit  before  I  get  back." 

There  was  little  to  be  feared  from  the  frost,  with 
all  the  buffalo-robes  and  blankets  and  shawls  and 
cloaks  that  were  piled  into  that  sleigh. 

When  its  passengers  were  in,  they  made  quite  a 
party.  There  was  the  deacon  (who  insisted  on  driv- 
ing), and  aunt  Judith,  and  Mrs.  Stebbins  and  Vosh, 
and  Corry,  and  Susie  Hudson  and  Porter,  and  Penel- 
ope, in  the  sleigh,  with  Ponto  all  around  outside  of 
it;  besides  all  the  baskets  of  luncheon,  the  fishing- 
tackle,  axes,  and  guns. 

"  You  can't  shoot  fish,"  said  Susie. 

"  May  shoot  something  else,"  said  Vosh.  "There's 
no  such  thing  as  telling.  It's  a  wild  place." 

"Susie!"  exclaimed  Pen,  "didn't  you  know  there 
were  deer  up  at  Mink  Lake,  —  real  deer?" 

"Corry,"  whispered  Port,  "let's  get  one  before  we 
come  home." 

"  Father's  got  his  gun  by  him,  all  ready,  but  he 
won't  let  us  get  ours  out  till  we  reach  the  lake.  He 
may  get  a  shot  at  something  as  he  drives  along." 

There  was  a  sharp  lookout  for  all  kinds  of  wild 
animals,  after  the  way  began  to  wind  among  the  piny 
woods,  and  through  the  desolate-looking  "clearings" 
left  by  the  choppers.  The  road  was  found  even 
better  than  Vosh's  news  had  reported  it,  and  the 
black  team  pulled  their  merry  load  along  quite  easily. 


74 


WINTER  FUN. 


The  young  folk  soon  got  over  the  solemn  feeling 
which  came  upon  them  when  they  found  themselves 
actually  in  the  great  forest. 

It  was  delightful  to  shout,  and  listen  for  echoes ; 
and  to  sing,  and  know  there  was  not  a  living  pair  of 
ears  to  hear,  except  those  in  the  sleigh,  and  Ponto's. 

It  was  about  two  hours  after  they  left  the  farm- 
house, and  Port  had  just  remarked,  — 

"  Seems  to  me  we've  been  going  up  hill  all  the 
time,"  when  Corry  suddenly  exclaimed,  — 

"There  it  is!  That's  Mink  Lake.  It'll  be  down 
hill  all  the  way  going  home.  See  it ! " 

"  Lake  !  "  said  Port.  "  I  don't  see  any  lake.  Oh, 
yes,  I  do !  It's  all  ice  and  snow,  — frozen  clean  over." 

"And  we  haven't  seen  a  single  deer  yet,"  said 
Susie  sorrowfully. 

"You  can  see  some  now,  then,"  replied  Vosh  as 
he  eagerly  pointed  forward.  "  See  'em,  Susie  ?  See 
'em  ?  Way  down  yonder  on  the  ice." 

"  I  see  them !  "  shouted  Pen.  "  One,  two,  three, 
four  of  'em." 

"Those  black  specks  ?"  said  Susie. 

There  they  were  indeed,  and  they  were  beginning 
to  move  rapidly  across  the  ice ;  but  they  were  too  far 
away  for  any  thing  more  than  just  to  make  out  what 
they  were. 

Even  Ponto  continued  to  plod  along  soberly  be- 
hind the  sleigh.  He  was  too  old  a  dog  to  excite 


A    WINTER  PICNIC-PARTY.  75 

himself  over  any  such  distant  and  impossible  game 
as  that. 

Deacon  Farnham  seemed  to  know  exactly  what 
he  was  about ;  for  he  drove  right  on  where  nobody 
else  could  see  any  road,  until  he  stopped  in  front  of 
a  very  small  and  very  rudely  made  kind  of  house. 

"Aunt  Judith,"  asked  Susie,  "did  anybody  ever 
live  here  ? " 

"  Live  here,  child  ?  Why,  that  there's  a  choppers' 
shanty.  It's  for  anybody  that  wants  it,  now  they've 
done  with  it." 

That  was  so,  but  it  was  not  for  the  mere  human 
beings  of  that  picnic-party.  The  deacon  took  his 
horses  from  the  sleigh,  and  led  them  in  through  the 
rickety  door. 

"They're  a  little  warm,"  he  said,  "but  they  won't 
catch  cold  in  there.  I'll  give  'em  a  good  feed,  Vosh, 
while  you're  starting  a  fire.  —  Get  the  guns  and 
tackle  out,  Corry." 

Vosh  had  had  a  hard  struggle  with  himself  that 
morning  to  leave  his  own  horse  and  cutter  at  home ; 
but  his  mother  had  settled  it  for  him.  She  re- 
marked, — 

"  I'd  ruther  be  in  the  big  sleigh  with  the  folks, 
so  I  can  hear  what's  goin'  on.  So  would  Susie  Hud- 
son, or  aunt  Judith  Farnham.  You'd  be  kind  o' 
lonely.  Besides,  that  little  thing  of  yourn  'd  be 
upsettin'  twenty  times,  over  them  mountain  roads." 


76  WINTER  FUN. 

He  was  ready  with  his  axe  now ;  and  Porter  Hud- 
son opened  his  eyes  at  the  rapidity  with  which  a 
great  fire  was  blazing  on  the  snow,  a  little  distance 
from  the  shanty. 

"  What  are  we  to  get  into  ? "  asked  Port. 

"We  won't  need  any  shelter,"  said  aunt  Judith. 
"When  it's  time  for  dinner,  we  can  eat  it  in  the 
sleigh." 

They  were  not  yet  thinking  of  eating.  The  first 
business  on  hand  was  a  trip  to  the  lake.  Vosh  Steb- 
bins  took  his  axe  with  him,  and  he  and  the  deacon 
each  carried  a  long,  wide  board.  Port  managed  not 
to  ask  what  these  were  for,  and  he  had  not  a  great 
while  to  wait  before  he  knew. 

"Vosh,"  said  the  deacon,  "the  ice  must  be  pretty 
thick.  Hope  we  sha'n't  have  to  chop  a  hole." 

"There's  one  air-hole,  away  yonder.  It  doesn't 
look  too  wide." 

"  Shouldn't  wonder  if  it'd  do." 

"  Susie,"  said  Pen,  "  don't  you  know  ?  That's 
where  all  the  fish  come  up  to  the  top  to  get  a  breath 
of  fresh  air." 

There  was  some  truth  in  Pen's  explanation,  in 
spite  of  the  laugh  she  got  from  Mrs.  Stebbins.  Su- 
sie said  nothing,  for  she  was  all  eyes  at  that  mo- 
ment. She  thought  she  had  never  seen  any  thing 
stranger  or  more  beautiful  than  that  little  lake,  all 
frozen,  with  the  hills  around  it,  and  the  mountains 


A    WINTER  PICNIC-rARTY.  77 

beyond  them.  The  broken  slopes  of  the  hills  and 
mountains  were  covered  with  white  snow,  green 
pines,  spruces,  hemlocks,  and  with  the  brownish 
gray  of  the  other  trees  whose  leaves  had  fallen  from 
them.  It  was  very  wonderful  and  new  to  a  young 
lady  from  the  city. 

"Most  half  the  lake,"  said  Vosh,  "is  smooth  enough 
to  skate  on.  If  I'd  ha'  thought  of  that,  I'd  ha' 
brought  along  my  skates." 

It  would  have  been  worth  while.  Mink  Lake  was 
what  some  people  call  a  "pond,"  and  was  hardly  a 
mile  wide  by  an  irregular  mile  and  a  half  long. 
There  was  an  immense  skating-rink  there  now,  in 
spite  of  the  snow  which  covered  a  large  part  of  it. 

Susie  was  just  about  to  ask  some  more  questions, 
when  her  uncle  shouted,  — 

"This'll  do,  Vosh  !     Bring  along  your  slide." 

That  was  the  board  he  was  carrying,  and  its  use 
was  plain  now.  The  air-hole  was  an  opening  in  the 
ice,  not  more  than  two  feet  across,  but  the  ice  was 
thin  at  the  edges  of  it.  A  heavy  man,  or  a  busy  one, 
might  break  through,  and  let  himself  into  a  cold 
bath  ;  but  when  those  two  "  slides "  were  slipped 
along  on  either  side  of  the  hole,  any  one  could  walk 
right  out,  and  drop  in  a  hook  and  line  safely  enough. 

"  There,  Susie,"  said  Pen,  "  now  we  can  keep  our 
feet  dry  while  we  catch  our  fish." 

"  Now,  folks  !  "  exclaimed  the  deacon.  "  Two  at  a 
time.  We'll  take  turns." 


78  WINTER  FUN. 

"Your  turn's  good  till  you've  hooked  a  fish,"  said 
Vosh  to  Porter,  as  he  handed  him  a  line.  "  You  and 
the  deacon  try  it  first." 

It  seemed  very  easy, — nothing  to  do  but  to  stand 
on  a  dry  board,  and  drop  a  line  with  a  baited  hook 
at  the  end  of  it  through  a  two-foot  hole  in  the  ice. 
There  was  no  long  waiting  to  be  done  either. 

"  Father,  father ! "  shouted  Pen  in  a  few  moments. 
"  You've  got  him  ! "  There  was  a  sort  of  electric 
shock  went  through  the  entire  picnic  ;  but  the  dea- 
con jerked  out  a  very  good-looking  fish  with  an 
unthankful  look  on  his  face. 

"  Nothing  but  a  perch.  He's  a  pound  and  a  quar- 
ter, though.  —  Here,  Mrs.  Stebbins,  take  that  other 
line,  and  see  what  you  can  do." 

Mrs.  Stebbins  had  talked  quite  industriously  all 
the  way,  and  even  after  they  got  upon  the  ice  ;  but 
she  stopped  short  the  moment  she  took  hold  of  that 
line.  She  had  hardly  dropped  it  in,  before  Porter 
Hudson  exclaimed,  — 

"  Corry,  Corry  !  " 

"  Pull,  Port !     Pull !     You've  got  a  big  one." 

"  So  have  I,"  screamed  Mrs.  Stebbins.  "  Deacon  ! 
—  Vosh !  It's  awful !  Come  help  me  !  " 

"  Pen,"  said  Susie,  "  could  it  pull  her  through  the 
hole  ? " 

"Why,  Susie!" 

Pen's  eyes  and  mouth  were  wide  open ;  for  both 


A    WINTER  PICNIC-PARTY.  fg 

her  cousin  and  Mrs.  Stebbins  were  leaning  back,  and 
it  seemed  as  if  something  down  below  were  jerking 
at  them. 

"Wind  it  round  your  wrist,  Port,"  said  Corry. 
"Hang  on!" 

"  Now,  mother,"  said  Vosh  as  he  took  hold  of  her 
line,  "  I  declare,  you  have  hooked  a  good  one.  I 
guess  I'll  pull  him  in  for  you." 

It  hardly  seemed  to  cost  him  an  effort  to  bring 
a  great  three-pound  pickerel  through  the  hole,  and 
sling  him  out  upon  the  ice. 

"That's  better  than  perch,  deacon." 

"  Shall  I  help  you,  Port  ?  "  asked  Corry. 

"No,  sir-e-e-e  !     I'll  bring  in  my  own  fish." 

"  Hand  over  hand  !  Don't  let  him  get  away  from 
you." 

Port's  blood  was  up,  now  he  had  seen  that  other 
pickerel  landed,  and  he  pulled  with  all  his  might. 

"Now  lift,"  said  Vosh.  "Don't  let  him  rub  his 
nose  against  the  ice,  or  he'll  break  loose.  Don't  lean 
over  too  far.  That's  it." 

It  was  splendidly  exciting  ;  and  Port  followed  the 
directions  given  him,  although  his  heart  was  beating 
quickly,  and  he  thought  he  had  never  lifted  any  thing 
else  quite  so  heavy  as  that  fish. 

"  Out  he  comes !  "  he  shouted. 

"  Hurrah  for  Port !  "  said  aunt  Judith.  "  It's  the 
biggest  one  yet." 


8O  WINTER  FUN. 

So  it  was ;  and  a  proud  boy  was  Porter  Hudson 
when  Deacon  Farnham  declared  that  the  great  fish 
he  had  fought  so  hard  with  was  a  seven-pound 
pickerel. 

"Now,  aunt  Judith,  it's  your  turn  next." 

"  Me,  Corry  ?  Me  ?  What  could  I  do  with  a  cre- 
tur  like  that  ? " 

"  I'll  help  you  if  you  get  a  big  one.  Here's  your 
line  :  you  must  try." 

She  had  to  be  coaxed  a  little  more,  but  she  con- 
sented, and  Susie  herself  took  the  other  line.  The 
fish  were  biting  hungrily ;  for  in  less  than  a  minute 
aunt  Judith  gave  a  little  scream  and  a  jerk,  and 
began  to  pull  in  her  line  ;  then  another  little  scream 
and  another  jerk,  and  then, — 

"  Perch  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Ain't  I  glad  it  wasn't 
a  pickerel !  —  Penelope,  you  can  ketch  the  rest  of 
my  fish  for  me.  I'll  just  look  on." 

Susie's  face  grew  almost  pale,  as  she  stood  there 
with  her  line  in  her  hand,  waiting  for  something  to 
pull  on  it. 

"  Do  they  nibble  first,  Vosh  ? " 

Hardly  were  the  words  out  of  her  mouth,  before 
her  line  was  suddenly  jerked  away  from  her.  Vosh 
had  just  time  to  catch  hold  of  the  piece  of  wood 
the  rest  of  it  was  wound  upon. 

"  I've  lost  him,  I've  lost  him  !  " 

"No,  you  haven't,  but  he's  running  pretty  well. 


A    WINTER  PICNIC-PARTY.  8 1 

Guess  I'd  better  snub  him.  He'd  have  cut  your 
fingers  with  the  line  if  you'd  ha'  tried." 

Susie's  soft  white  hands  were  hardly  suited  to 
work  of  that  sort,  and  they  were  already  getting  a 
little  cold.  She  was  quite  willing  to  pick  up  her 
muff,  and  slip  them  into  it  while  Vosh  pulled  in  her 
pickerel  for  her.  It  was  a  right  good  one  too,  only 
a  little  less  weighty  than  Porter's. 

Pen  had  now  taken  the  line  from  aunt  Judith,  and 
she  dropped  her  hook  in  very  confidently. 

"  There  isn't  a  scrap  of  bait  on  it,"  said  Corry. 

"  Isn't  there  ?  I  forgot  that.  Just  wait  a  minute, 
and  then  I'll  let  you  put  some  on." 

Corry  and  the  rest  began  to  laugh,  but  Pen  shouted 
again,  — 

"  He's  nibbling  !  Now  he's  biting !  Oh,  he's 
bit !  " 

So  he  had,  bait  or  no  bait ;  and  she  was  quite 
strong  enough  to  pull  up  a  very  handsome  perch 
without  help  from  anybody. 

After  that,  Deacon  Farnham  and  the  boys  had 
the  fishing  all  to  themselves.  It  was  well  there  was 
enough  of  it  to  make  it  exciting ;  for  it  was  wet,  cold, 
chilly  work.  The  fish  were  of  several  sorts  and  all 
sizes  ;  and  some  of  them  rubbed  themselves  free 
against  the  icy  edges  of  the  hole,  in  spite  of  all  that 
could  be  done.  Before  noon  there  was  a  consider- 
able pile  of  them  lying  on  the  ice,  and  the  fun  of 


82  WINTER  FUN. 

catching  them  had  lost  a  little  of  its  power  to  keep 
the  cold  away. 

Long  before  the  fishermen  decided  that  they  had 
caught  enough,  Mrs.  Stebbins  and  aunt  Judith  and 
the  girls  got  tired  of  looking  on,  and  set  out  across 
the  ice  towards  the  sleigh  and  the  very  attractive- 
looking  fire.  The  latter  had  been  well  heaped  up  at 
first,  and  was  now  blazing  vigorously. 

"We  must  have  a  good  dinner  ready  for  'em," 
said  aunt  Judith  when  she  turned  away,  — "  all  the 
fish  they  can  eat." 

"  You  carry  one,"  said  Mrs.  Stebbins  :  "  I'll  take  a 
couple  more.  The  girls  can  help.  We'll  brile  'em, 
and  we'll  fry  'em,  and  we'll  roast  'em  in  the  ashes." 

She  tried  to  think  of  some  other  way,  but  she 
could  not.  She  and  aunt  Judith  were  excellent 
cooks,  and  knew  just  what  to  do  with  fresh  fish  and 
such  a  fire.  It  was  by  no  means  their  first  picnic 
either,  and  the  right  things  to  cook  with  had  not 
been  left  at  home.  Susie  and  Pen  entered  into  the 
spirit  of  it  with  a  vast  deal  of  enthusiasm,  but  they 
were  quite  contented  to  let  the  more  experienced 
cooks  clean  the  fish. 

"We're  having  the  splendidest  kind  of  a  time, 
ain't  we  ? "  said  Pen. 

"  Splendid !  It's  the  first  winter  picnic  I  ever 
heard  of." 

"  I  never  had  one  before,  but  I've  heard  mother 
tell  of  'em." 


A    WINTER  PICNIC-PARTY.  83 

There  was  plenty  to  do ;  and  when  at  last  the 
fishermen  gave  up  dropping  lines  through  the  air- 
hole, and  came  plodding  slowly  back  across  the  ice, 
there  was  all  the  dinner  they  could  reasonably  ask 
for,  hot  and  smoking,  and  ready  for  them. 

Such  noble  strings  of  fish  they  were  dragging  after 
them,  and  such  hearty  appetites  they  brought  to 
that  tempting  "  spread  "  ! 

There  was  hot  coffee  to  be  drank  out  of  tin  cups, 
fish  in  several  styles  of  cookery,  crisp  fried  pork, 
roasted  potatoes,  bread  and  butter,  and  last  of  all 
was  some  cold  meat  that  nobody  seemed  to  care  for. 

"  Will  there  be  any  dessert  ?  "  asked  Port. 

"Aunt  Judith's  got  some  mince-pies  warming  on 
the  log  by  the  fire." 

"What  a  dinner  for  the  woods  !  " 

"Woods  !  Why,  the  choppers  have  fresh  fish  and 
potatoes  and  coffee  all  the  while,  and  sometimes  they 
have  venison." 

"  Game,"  said  Port,  "  but  no  pie." 

"Vosh,"  said  Susie,  "what  has  become  of  all  your 
deer?" 

Just  at  that  moment  they  heard  old  Ponto  barking 
away  at  a  great  rate  in  the  woods  near  by ;  and  Vosh 
sprang  up,  exclaiming,  — 

"  He's  treed  something  ! " 

"  Guess  he  has,"  said  the  deacon.  "  Get  your 
guns,  boys.  Load  with  buckshot." 

"  Mine's  loaded,"  said  Vosh. 


84  WINTER  FUN. 

"Mine'll  be  ready  in  a  minute,"  said  Corry. 
"  Quick  now,  Port !  " 

"  Hold  on,"  said  the  deacon.  "  We  must  all  have 
a  share  in  the  fun,  if  there  is  any." 

It  seemed  to  Susie  and  Pen  that  they  could  hardly 
wait  for  those  two  guns  to  be  loaded;  and  Mrs. 
Stebbins  exclaimed,  — 

"Judith,  I  do  hate  a  gun;  but  I'm  a-goin'  with 
'em.  Ain't  you?" 

"  Course  I  am.     Just  hark  to  that  there  dog ! " 

He  must  have  shared  in  the  general  impatience, 
to  judge  by  the  noise  he  was  making  ;  and  now  there 
came  another  and  a  very  curious  kind  of  sound  from 
that  direction. 

"  It's  a  baby  crying,"  said  Pen. 

"  Or  a  cat,"  began  Port. 

"  Sakes  alive  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Stebbins.  "  I  do 
believe  the  critter's  gone  and  treed  a  wildcat." 

"  I  guess  that's  it,"  said  the  deacon. 

It  was  indeed  that  precisely. 

They  all  kept  together,  as  they  waded  through  the 
snow  to  a  spot  about  twenty  rods  into  the  woods, 
from  which  they  could  see  old  Ponto  bounding  hither 
and  thither  around  the  trunk  of  a  tall  maple-tree  that 
stood  by  itself  in  the  middle  of  an  open  space  in  the 
forest. 

"No  other  tree  handy  for  him  to  jump  into,"  said 
Vosh.  "There  he  is!" 


A    WINTER  PICNIC-PARTY.  85 

"  Where  ? "  asked  aunt  Judith. 

"  See  him  ?     Up  there  on  that  big  lower  limb  !  " 

"It's  a  good  forty  feet  from  the  ground,"  said  the 
deacon.  "Come  on,  boys.  — All  the  rest  stay  here." 

"  O  Pen ! "  said  Susie,  "  I  do  believe  I'm  afraid. 
Will  he  jump?" 

"  They'll  shoot  him  down,  and  then  Ponto'll  grab 
him." 

"He'd  make  short  work  of  one  dog,  if  he  once  got 
at  him,"  said  Corry.  "Too  much  for  Ponto." 

There  was  little  doubt  of  that,  for  it  was  a  wildcat 
of  the  very  largest  size ;  not  so  dangerous  an  animal 
as  a  panther,  but  a  terribly  hard  scratcher,  and  apt 
to  require  a  great  deal  of  killing. 

He  seemed  even  larger  than  he  really  was,  as  he 
drew  himself  up  on  the  long,  bare  limb  of  the  tree, 
and  looked  down  so  savagely  upon  his  barking 
enemy. 

It  may  be  that  the  smell  of  the  cookery,  particu- 
larly of  the  fish,  had  tempted  him  so  near  the  picnic. 
Then  Ponto  had  scented  him  in  turn,  and  had  chased 
him  into  that  solitary  tree. 

"Now,  boys,"  said  Deacon  Farnham,  "all  around 
the  tree !  Fire  as  soon  as  you  can  after  I  do,  but 
keep  your  second  barrels.  We  may  have  to  give  him 
more  lead,  even  if  we  knock  him  down." 

Porter  Hudson  knew  he  was  not  one  bit  scared, 
and  wondered  why  he  should  shake  so  when  he  tried 


86  WINTER  FUN. 

to  lift  his  gun  and  take  aim.  He  was  sure  he  could 
not  shoot  straight,  and  hoped  the  shot  would  scatter 
well. 

"Now,  boys!"  Bang!  went  the  deacon's  gun;  and 
the  other  three  followed,  aim  or  no  aim.  The  wild- 
cat replied  with  an  angry  scream,  and  began  to  tear 
the  bark  of  the  limb  with  his  sharp,  strong  claws. 
How  they  would  have  gone  through  any  kind  of 
flesh! 

That  was  only  for  a  second  or  so ;  and  then  he 
suddenly  gathered  himself  for  a  spring  at  the  spot 
nearly  under  him,  where  Ponto  was  furiously  barking. 

Alas  for  the  great  cat  of  the  woods !  Too  many 
buckshot  had  struck  him,  and  he  fell  short  of  his 
mark  in  the  snow. 

Vosh  had  been  watching,  and  he  was  nearest. 
Hardly  did  the  wounded  animal  reach  the  snow, 
before  Susie  saw  Vosh  spring  forward,  and  fire  the 
second  barrel  of  his  gun. 

"  He's  a  real  brave  fellow." 

"  So  he  is,"  said  Pen  and  aunt  Judith ;  but  Mrs. 
Stebbins  was  too  proud  of  her  boy  to  say  a  word. 

That  was  very  nearly  enough.  Corry  ran  forward, 
and  Porter  after  him,  and  the  deacon  followed ;  but 
Ponto  was  ahead  of  them  all,  and  it  would  not  do  to 
fire  at  any  risk  of  shooting  the  brave  old.  dog. 

There  was  no  fight  left  in  the  wildcat  when 
Ponto's  teeth  were  buried  in  his  neck  ;  and  he  there- 


A    WINTER  PICNIC-PARTY.  87 

fore  had  all  the  fun  and  glory  of  a  great  shaking 
and  growling  and  worrying,  without  any  danger  of 
being  scratched. 

"  Drop  him,  Ponto,  drop  him  !  "  said  the  deacon. 
"  I  don't  want  that  skin  spoiled  :  it's  a  fine  one. 
We  didn't  put  as  many  shot  into  him  as  I  thought 
we  would." 

He  was  killed  now,  surely  enough,  however,  and 
Vosh  could  carry  him  to  the  sleigh  ;  and  they  could 
all  go  back,  and  eat  more  pie,  and  talk  about  bears 
and  wolves  and  panthers,  till  the  two  girls  felt  like 
looking  around  at  the  woods  to  see  if  any  of  that 
sort  of  people  were  coming. 

"  We  don't  need  any  more  fish,"  said  aunt  Judith  : 
"  we've  more'n  enough  for  the  whole  neighborhood." 

"  No,  we  don't,"  said  the  deacon.  "  What's  more, 
it  looks  some  like  a  snow-storm.  We'd  best  be  pack- 
ing up  for  home." 

Even  that  was  grand  fun  ;  but  it  seemed  almost 
a  pity  to  leave  so  good  a  fire  behind  them  to  burn 
itself  out  all  alone  there  in  the  snow,  with  nobody 
to  sit  around  it,  and  cook,  and  tell  stories. 

"It's  a  waste  of  wood,"  remarked  aunt  Judith 
regretfully. 

If  the  road  had  been  "all  up  hill"  coming  to  the 
lake,  it  was  just  as  much  all  down  hill  going  home 
again ;  and  that  sleigh-ride  was  about  as  good  as  any 
other  part  of  the  picnic. 


88  WINTER  FUN. 

They  all  thought  so  until  they  reached  the  farm- 
house, and  found  what  a  splendid  supper  Mrs.  Farn- 
ham  had  prepared  for  them.  It  was  very  nearly  a 
wonder  to  all  of  them,  afterwards,  how  it  was  possi- 
ble they  should  have  been  so  very  ravenously  hungry 
twice  in  the  selfsame  day. 

"  I  guess  it's  the  picnic,"  said  Pen. 

"No,"  said  Corry,  "that  wouldn't  be  enough  :  it's 
the  wildcat." 

Deacon  Farnham  and  the  boys  spent  a  great  deal 
of  time  that  evening  over  the  skin  of  the  wildcat. 
There  was  some  talk  of  having  it  stuffed ;  but,-  on 
mature  deliberation,  that  idea  was  given  up.  One 
reason  was  that  nobody  in  that  neighborhood  knew 
how.  Aunt  Judith  doubted  if  that  fine  specimen  of 
wild  fur  would  ever  be  of  any  mortal  use,  but  Susie 
came  to  the  rescue  with  an  old  new  idea. 

"Why,  aunt  Judith,"  she  said,  "when  it's  all  fin- 
ished, there  can  be  a  fringe  put  on  all  around,  and 
some  strong  canvas  on  the  under  side,  and  it  would 
make  a  lamp-mat  for  a  centre-table.  I  saw  one 
once." 

"In  the  city  too?  What  won't  they  do  next! 
And  I  suppose  they  paid  a  high  price  for  it.  — Josh- 
away,  you  cure  the  skin,  and  Sarah  and  I'll  make  a 
table-rug  of  it." 

Fresh  fish  will  keep  a  long  time  in  cold  weather, 
and  a  good  part  of  the  day's  finny  harvest  was 


A    WINTER  PICNIC-rARTY.  89 

packed  away  for  home  consumption  in  both  houses. 
Still,  after  supper,  and  tired  as  he  was,  poor  Vosh 
had  to  pay  one  penalty  of  so  much  good  luck.  He 
had  to  hitch  up  the  sorrel,  and  drive  to  the  houses 
of  half  a  dozen  neighbors  with  presents  of  bass  and 
pickerel  and  perch  from  Mink  Lake.  That  was  the 
very  neighborly  end  of  the  grand  winter  picnic. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   DONATION-PARTY. 

ONE  of  the  first  things  learned  by  Susie  and  Por- 
ter Hudson,  on  their  arrival  at  the  farmhouse,  had 
been  that  the  reason  why  Corry  and  Pen  were  not 
attending  school  was  that  the  teacher  was  sick. 

"Soon  as  she's  well  again,"  said  Pen,  "we'll  have 
to  go.  It's  too  bad,  but  she  always  gets  well  right 
away." 

Hard  as  it  was,  the  very  next  morning  after  the 
picnic,  word  came  to  the  farmhouses  all  over  the 
valley  that  school  was  open. 

"Vosh,"  said  his  mother,  "I  can't  have  ye  miss  a 
day,  not  till  you  know  more'n  that  there  teacher 
does ;  and  you  ort  to  ketch  up  with  her  before  the 
winter's  out." 

Some  little  plans  of  Vosh's,  in  which  his  horse 
and  cutter  had  a  part,  were  upset  completely  by  the 
teacher's  recovery ;  but  the  consequences  were  even 

more  severe  at  Deacon  Farnham's. 
90 


THE  DONATION-PARTY.  QI 

Corry  and  Pen  were  compelled  to  leave  their 
cousins  to  take  care  of  themselves  every  day  till 
after  school-hours.  It  was  not  so  bad  for  Susie, 
with  her  two  aunts  to  care  for  her.  There  was  the 
milk-room  and  the  spinning-wheel  and  the  kitchen, 
and  a  dozen  kinds  of  knitting  to  learn,  and  there 
were  many  good  books  in  the  house.  It  looked  a 
little  blue  to  Porter  at  first,  but  he  faced  it  manfully. 
He  determined  not  to  spend  an  hour  in  the  house 
that  he  could  find  a  use  for  out  of  doors.  He  went 
with  the  deacon  to  the  cattle-yard  and  the  stables, 
and  he  learned  more  about  horses  and  cows  and  oxen 
than  he  had  supposed  there  was  to  learn. 

The  sheep,  too,  were  very  interesting  ;  especially 
one  old  ram  that  took  a  dislike  to  him,  and  was 
strongly  disposed  to  drive  him  out  of  the  sheepfold 
every  time  he  came  in. 

Porter  discovered,  too,  that  hens,  ducks,  turkeys, 
had  to  live  and  be  cared  for  in  winter  as  well  as  in 
summer ;  and  Susie  took  a  share  with  him  in  that 
part  of  his  work  and  learning. 

All  that,  and  a  great  deal  more,  was  close  around 
the  house  ;  and  it  was  a  positive  treat  to  make  a  trip, 
after  a  couple  of  days,  to  the  forest  with  his  uncle. 
There  was  likely  to  be  more  snow,  the  latter  said, 
and  he  wanted  to  do  all  the  chopping  and  hauling  he 
could  before  the  roads  should  be  blocked.  Port  won- 
dered if  it  would  be  possible  to  burn,  before  spring, 


92  WINTER  FUN. 

as  much  wood  as  there  was  already  in  the  woodshed  ; 
but  it  just  suited  him  to  go  for  more. 

The  deacon  could  do  the  chopping  on  that  and 
other  days,  and  Port  could  be  on  hand  to  help  him 
load  the  sleigh.  The  rest  of  the  time,  he  could  be 
helping  Ponto  look  for  game  around  among  the  trees 
and  bushes. 

Between  them  they  bagged  some  more  rabbits, 
and  once  Port  actually  fired  both  barrels  of  his  gun 
into  a  covey  of  partridges. 

"  Three  of  'em  ?  "  said  his  uncle  when  he  brought 
them  in.  "  You'll  be  a  sportsman  yet,  if  you  keep 
on  in  this  way." 

That  was  only  three  days  after  the  Mink-lake 
picnic,  and  a  proud  boy  was  Port  when  Corry  and 
Vosh  came  home.  They  were  not  even  to  have 
Saturday  to  themselves,  for  there  was  lost  time  to 
make  up  over  their  books. 

Aunt  Judith  said  she  had  never  heard  of  such  a 
thing  when  she  was  young ;  and  Vosh  Stebbins  went 
out  to  the  barn,  and  sat  in  his  cutter  for  two  hours, 
while  he  worked  at  his  back  lessons. 

That  Sunday  they  all  went  to  meeting  at  Benton 
Village ;  and  it  seemed  to  Susie  Hudson  that  all  she 
heard  about,  except  while  the  minister  was  preach- 
ing, was  "the  donation."  She  was  not  at  all  sure 
but  what  some  of  the  ladies  were  thinking  of  it 
during  the  sermon,  from  the  way  they  talked  about 
it  afterwards. 


THE  DONATION-PARTY.  93 

"Pen,"  she  said  in  the  sleigh  on  their  way  home, 
"tell  me  just  what  it  is.  I've  heard  about  a  dona- 
tion often  enough,  but  I  never  saw  one." 

"  Why,  don't  you  know  ? "  exclaimed  Pen  in 
great  surprise.  "  Why,  a  donation  —  it's  a  donation  : 
that's  all.  It's  a  kind  of  a  picnic  at  the  minister's 
house.  Everybody  comes,  and  they  all  bring  some- 
thing. Only  aunt  Judith  says  some  of  'em  eat  more'n 
they  bring." 

"  Shall  we  all  go  ? " 

"  Of  course  we  will.  You'll  see.  It's  the  nicest 
kind  of  a  time." 

Susie  learned  a  great  deal  more  during  the  next 
two  days.  Mrs.  Farnham  and  aunt  Judith  seemed 
to  be  cooking  for  that  "donation"  as  if  there  were 
likely  to  be  a  famine  there,  especially  in  the  matter 
of  mince-pies. 

"  Elder  Evans  is  a  real  good  man,"  remarked  aunt 
Judith,  "but  he  ain't  any  kind  of  a  pervider.  No, 
nor  his  wife  ain't  either.  It  won't  do  to  let  things 
go,  and  have  'em  eaten  out  of  house  and  home." 

They  were  not  likely  to  be,  if  the  rest  of  the  good 
people  in  Benton  Valley  sent  over  such  stores  of 
"  goodies "  as  went  to  the  minister's  house,  before 
the  day  appointed,  from  Deacon  Farnham's. 

"  I've  done  my  best,"  said  Mrs.  Stebbins  to  Vosh 
while  she  was  putting  her  contribution  into  his  cutter 
for  transportation,  "but  Sarah  Farnham  and  Judith 


94 


WINTER  FUN. 


can  beat  me.  Their  oven'll  hold  three  times  what 
mine  will." 

She  went  over  early  in  the  afternoon,  to  help  Mrs. 
Evans ;  and  she  said  to  Vosh,  "  You  needn't  mind 
about  my  gittin'  home.  I'll  come  with  Judith  Farn- 
.ham." 

Perhaps  that  was  why  Vosh  felt  free  to  say  to 
Susie  Hudson,  as  she  stood  at  the  gate,  telling  him 
how  nice  his  horse  and  cutter  looked,  — 

"  You'll  have  to  go  in  the  deacon's  big  sleigh  with 
the  rest,  but  you  and  I'll  have  this  all  to  ourselves 
coming  home." 

That  was  kind  of  Vosh ;  and,  if  there  was  any 
thing  Susie  was  fast  learning  to  like,  it  was  sleighing. 

An  old-fashioned,  up-country  donation-party  can- 
not be  altogether  an  evening  affair.  Some  of  the 
good  people  have  far  to  come  and  go,  and  some  of 
them  have  heavy  loads  to  bring :  so  they  generally 
begin  to  assemble  before  the  middle  of  the  afternoon. 

Susie  had  seen  the  minister's  house  several  times. 
It  stood  in  the  edge  of  the  village,  with  an  immense 
barn  behind  it ;  and  it  looked,  for  all  the  world,  like 
another  large  barn,  painted  very  white,  with  ever  so 
many  windows. 

"Room,"  she  thought,  "for  all  the  company  that 
will  come."  And  it  was  a  good  thing  for  them 
that  she  was  so  nearly  right.  That  crowd  would 
have  been  very  uncomfortable  in  a  small  house. 


THE  DONATION-PARTY.  95 

When  the  sleigh-load  from  Deacon  Farnham's  got 
there,  there  was  already  a  long  line  of  teams  hitched 
at  the  roadside  in  front  of  the  house,  beside  all  that 
had  found  shed  and  stable  accommodations  here  and 
there. 

As  for  Elder  Evans's  own  barn,  hay,  straw,  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing,  formed  a  regular  part  of  his 
annual  donation.  Load  after  load  had  come  in  and 
been  stowed  away,  after  a  fashion  that  spoke  well 
for  either  the  elder's  popularity  or  the  goodness  of 
the  hay-crop. 

There  was  no  intention  of  letting  the  good  man 
freeze  to  death,  either,  in  a  country  where  wood  was 
to  be  had  almost  for  the  chopping.  His  wood-pile 
was  a  sight  to  see,  a  good  hour  before  supper,  and 
everybody  knew  there  was  more  to  come. 

Corry  explained  it  all  to  Porter. 

"Yes,  but  he  can't  eat  hay  and  wood.  You  say 
he  doesn't  get  much  money." 

That  was  a  little  after  they  entered  the  house,  and 
while  Mrs.  Farnham  and  Susie  were  talking  with  the 
elder's  kind-faced  little  wife. 

"Eat!"  said  Corry.  "You  come  right  out  here 
with  me." 

The  sitting-room,  back  of  the  parlor,  was  a  large 
one ;  but  it  was  nearly  half  full  of  tables  of  all  sorts 
and  sizes,  and  these  were  covered  with  a  feast  of  such 
liberal  abundance  that  Porter  gave  it  up  at  once. 


96  WINTER  FUN, 

"Even  this  crowd  can't  finish  all  that  in  one  even- 
ing, Corry.  Will  Elder  Evans's  folks  live  on  what's 
left,  for  the  rest  of  the  year  ? " 

"  Come  right  along.  Vosh  is  out  here.  He's  one 
of  the  receiving  committee." 

"What's  that?" 

Corry  led  his  cousin  into  the  kitchen,  and  a  funny- 
looking  place  it  was.  Something  like  a  dozen  busy 
ladies  were  trying  to  get  at  the  cook-stove  all  at  the 
same  time  ;  and  half  as  many  more  were  helping 
Vosh  Stebbins  "keep  track  of  things,"  as  they  were 
handed  in  at  the  side-door,  and  stowed  around  in  all 
directions, 

"That  makes  four  bushels  of  onions,"  Port  heard 
him  say,  as  he  and  Corry  entered  the  room.  "They're 
a  healthy  feed  —  but  then  !  " 

"  One  barrel  of  flour !  "  said  a  tall  woman  standing 
near  him;  "but  then,  there's  ten  bushels  of  wheat." 

"  Three  bags  of  meal,  and  twenty  sacks  of  corn ; 
fifteen  bushels  of  turnips,  twenty  of  potatoes ;  one 
dressed  pig;  a  side  of  beef;  two  dozen  chickens." 

"Sam  Jones  has  just  driven  in  with  another  load 
of  wood." 

"  And  Mr.  Beans,  the  miller  at  Cobbleville,  has  sent 
more  buckwheat  flour'n  they  can  use  if  they  settle 
down  to  livin'  on  flapjacks," 

"  Five  muskrat-skins." 

"Two  kags  of  butter," 


THE  DONATION-PARTY.  Q/ 

"Hold  on,"  said  Vosh,  "till  I  get  down  the  gro- 
ceries. Jemimy !  What'll  he  do  with  so  many 
tallow-dips  ?  and  there's  more  dried  apples  and  dough- 
nuts." 

It  was  indeed  a  remarkable  collection,  and  Porter 
began  to  understand  how  a  "way  up  country"  min- 
ister gets  his  supplies. 

"Port,"  said  Corry  a  little  while  after  that,  "let's 
go  for  our  supper.  We  want  to  be  ready  for  the 
fun." 

"  What'll  that  be  ? " 

"Oh,  you'll  see." 

Susie  had  been  making  a  dreadful  mistake  at  that 
very  moment ;  for  she  had  asked  old  Mrs.  Jordan,  the 
minister's  mother-in-law,  if  they  ever  had  any  dan- 
cing at  donation-parties.  She  told  Port  afterwards 
that  the  old  lady  looked  pretty  nearly  scared  to  death, 
and  that  all  she  said  was,  — 

"  Dancing,  child  !     Sakes  alive  ! " 

The  house  was  swarming  with  young  people  as 
well  as  old,  and  it  was  of  no  manner  of  use  for  the 
leader  of  the  Benton  church  choir  to  try  and  get 
them  all  to  singing.  A  hymn  or  two  went  off  well 
enough,  and  then  they  all  listened  pretty  attentively 
while  a  quartet  sang  some  glees.  By  that  time, 
however,  Vosh  Stebbins  had  returned  from  the 
kitchen  with  his  list  all  made  up,  and  ready  for  the 
minister;  and  he  said  something  to  another  young 


98  WINTER  FUN". 

man,  older  than  himself,  but  no  taller,  about  "those 
charades."  The  music  went  to  the  wall,  or  some- 
where else,  in  about  a  minute  and  a  half. 

Susie  Hudson  had  never  heard  of  one-half  the 
games  that  followed  after  the  charades.  Some  of 
these  had  been  pretty  good ;  but  they  were  hardly 
noisy  enough  for  the  country  boys  and  girls,  and  in 
due  time  were  set  aside  like  the  music.  There  were 
forfeits  of  several  kinds,  anagrams,  "  kiss  in  the 
ring,"  and,  after  several  other  things  had  been  pro- 
posed and  tried,  the  parlor  was  given  up  to  a  royal 
game  of  blind-man's-buff. 

It  was  grand  fun  for  the  young  people ;  but,  while 
it  went  on,  there  seemed  to  be  every  bit  as  hungry  a 
crowd  as  ever  around  the  tables  in  the  sitting-room. 
As  fast  as  any  one  came  out,  somebody  else  went  in. 

"Deacon  Parnham,"  said  Vosh  in  an  undertone, 
"I've  seen  that  oldest  Bean  girl  eat  three  suppers 
already." 

"  It's  a  good  thing  there's  plenty." 

"Biggest  kind  of  a  donation.  Sile  Hathaway's 
just  got  here  with  two  whole  deer.  Killed  'em  on 
the  mountains  yesterday." 

The  deacon  brightened  up  a  little  as  he  respond- 
ed, "  Deer,  eh  ?  Well,  the  elder  won't  starve,  any- 
way." 

Susie  enjoyed  herself  exceedingly,  but  Pen  told 
her, — 


THE  DONATION-PARTY.  99 

"  It's  real  good  of  you  to  laugh  right  out  the  way 
you  do.  They  ain't  half  so  much  afraid  of  you  now 
as  they  were  when  you  got  here." 

"  Afraid  of  me,  Pen  ? " 

"  Why,  yes  :  you're  a  city  girl.  They  ain't  a  bit 
afraid  of  me." 

Vosh  overheard  that,  and  he  added  with  a  broad 
grin,  — 

"  Fact,  Susie.  Half  these  fellows'd  rather  face  a 
wildcat,  any  day,  than  a  girl  like  you,  right  from 
the  city." 

Susie  blushed  and  laughed,  but  it  was  a  sort  of 
explanation  to  her  of  some  things  she  had  noticed 
during  the  evening. 

"  Port,"  said  Corry,  "  let's  go  out  and  take  a  look 
at  Sile  Hathaway's  deer.  One's  a  buck,  and  one's  a 
doe,  and  they're  prime." 

"  Is  he  a  hunter  ? " 

"  Guess  he  is.  He'd  rather  hunt  than  earn  a  liv- 
ing, any  day.  But  he's  about  the  best  rifle-shot  there 
is  anywhere  around  here." 

Port  felt  that  such  a  man  had  a  great  claim  to 
public  respect,  but  he  walked  on  without  a  word 
more  until  they  were  outside  of  the  kitchen- 
door. 

There  on  the  snow  lay  the  fat  doe  and  the  ant- 
lered  buck,  and  it  made  Porter  Hudson's  very  fingers 
tingle  to  look  on  them. 


100  WINTER  FUN. 

"Where'd  you  get  'em,  Sile  ?"  asked  Corry. 

"  Not  more'n  a  mile  up  this  way  from  Mink  Lake  ; 
jest  whar  the  split  comes  in  from  towards  the  old 
loggin'-camp." 

"  How'd  you  get  'em  to  the  village  ? " 

"Well,  of  course  I  had  my  pony  along.  Allers 
do.  Made  a  pole-drag  right  than  I  had  two  more 
deer  to  fetch  in,  and  they  wasn't  more'n  jest  a  good 
load  for  a  drag." 

He  was  a  long,  lanky,  grizzled  sort  of  man,  with 
keen  gray  eyes,  and  a  stoop  in  his  shoulders. 

"What's  a  pole-drag  ?  "  asked  Port. 

"Why,"  replied  Corry,  "all  he  does  is  to  cut  down 
two  saplings,  and  make  a  kind  of  sled  of  'em.  It 
won't  last  long,  but  it'll  do  to  haul  deer  home.  I'll 
show  you  one  to-morrow." 

Port  would  have  stood  and  looked  at  the  deer 
longer  if  the  weather  out  there  had  been  warmer, 
but  he  half  made  up  his  mind  to  be  a  hunter  while 
he  was  feeling  of  that  buck's  antlers.  There  was 
something  magnetic  about  them  that  sent  a  hunting- 
fever  all  over  him. 

At  last  the  pleasant  gathering  at  the  minister's 
house  began  to  break  up.  Some  sleigh-loads  of  those 
who  had  far  to  go  had  already  set  out  for  their 
homes,  and  it  was  well  understood  that  not  even  the 
village  people  and  near  neighbors  would  stay  later 
than  ten  o'clock.  Very  likely  Elder  Evans  and  his 


THE  DONATION-PARTY.  IOI 

family  would  be  tired  enough  to  be  pleased  at  once 
more  having  their  home  to  themselves. 

There  came  at  the  end  a  trifle  of  a  surprise  to 
Susie  Hudson.  The  country-boys  grew  bolder  as 
breaking-up  time  drew  near ;  and  she  was  compelled 
to  inform  no  less  than  three  of  them  in  succession, 
when  they  offered  her  a  ride  home  in  their  own 
cutters,  that  she  was  already  supplied  with  com- 
pany. 

She  did  not  happen  to  see  Vosh  Stebbins's  tri- 
umphant grin  at  one  of  these  young  men  when  he 
was  turning  away  to  hunt  for  another  girl,  but  she 
better  understood  why  her  thoughtful  young  neigh- 
bor had  spoken  to  her  beforehand. 

She  learned  yet  one  thing  more  before  she  arrived 
at  her  uncle's  house.  That  was,  that  there  were  two 
roads  to  it,  and  the  one  selected  by  Vosh  for  the 
return  drive  was  several  times  longer  than  that  by 
which  Deacon  Farnham  had  driven  his  big  sleigh. 
The  snowy  track  was  everywhere  in  fine  condition  ; 
the  sorrel  colt  was  in  the  best  of  spirits ;  the  bells 
rang  out  clearly  in  a  ceaseless  jingle  as  the  gay 
little  turnout  dashed  along  :  it  was  altogether  a  capi- 
tal winding-up  for  an  evening  of  genuine  "winter 
fun  "  in  the  country. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  merry  talk  in  the  larger 
sleigh  all  the  way  home.  The  older  people,  Mrs. 
Stebbins  included,  were  in  a  good  state  of  mind  over 


IO2  WINTER  FUN, 

the  success  of  the  party,  and  Pen  had  something  to 
say  about  everybody  she  had  seen. 

"  Corry,"  said  Port  as  he  nestled  down  among  the 
buffalo-robes,  "  is  there  any  thing  up  this  way  that 
pays  better  than  a  donation  ? " 

"  I  don't  know.  Tell  you  what,  though  :  they  say 
we're  to  have  a  big  spelling-match  in  about  two 
weeks." 

"What's  that?" 

"Why,  it's  this  way:  the  Benton  school-district 
takes  in  all  the  young  folks  around  here.  The  Cob- 
bleville  school-district  joins  ours,  only  it's  bigger, 
and  there's  more  of  'em.  We're  to  spell  against  'em. 
It's  tip-top  fun ;  but  I'm  awfully  afraid  they'll  spell 
us  down.  They  did  last  year,  and  the  year  before." 

"  Can  Susie  and  I  go  ?  " 

"  Of  course  you  can.  We've  a  right  to  count  in 
anybody  that's  living  in  our  district." 

"I'm  in,  then.     I  live  here." 

"  Will  Susie  come  ?  She  ought  to  be  a  good 
speller.  The  day  isn't  set  yet.  They  were  talking 
it  over  to-night.  We'll  have  to  go  to  Cobbleville : 
they've  got  the  biggest  meeting-house." 

"  Meeting-house  ?     What  for  ? " 

"Why,  to  hold  the  match  in.  It'll  be  jam  full, 
too,  galleries  and  all.  Everybody  comes  out  to  a 
spelling-match.  You'll  see." 

Port  had  no  end  of  questions  to  ask ;  but  he  felt 


THE  DONATION-PARTY.  1 03 

that  he  was  becoming  a  country-boy  very  fast,  and 
that  he  already  had  a  strong  interest  in  upholding 
the  honor  of  the  Benton  school-district. 

"Susie?"  he  said.     "Why,  of   course  she'll  go. 
She  can  spell  any  thing." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   WORD-BATTLE   AT   COBBLEVILLE. 

PENELOPE  was  in  bed  and  asleep  when  Susie  re- 
turned from  the  donation.  So  long  a  road  home  as 
Vosh  Stebbins  had  selected,  had  required  time  to 
travel  over  it ;  and  Mrs.  Farnham  had  vetoed  Pen's 
proposal  to  sit  up.  When  they  all  reached  the 
breakfast-table  in  the  morning,  there  was  a  great 
deal  to  talk  about,  but  it  was  not  long  before  the 
spelling-match  came  up. 

"  Oh,  yes !  Susie,"  said  Pen,  "  I  was  going  to  tell 
you  all  about  it.  You  know  how  to  spell." 

"They  say  we  can  be  counted  in  among  the 
Benton  spellers,"  began  Port ;  but  there  was  a  very 
serious  look  on  Susie's  face  as  she  said  to  him,  — 

"  I  promised  to  go ;  but  then,  to  think  of  being 
spelled  down ! " 

"Why,  Susie!"  exclaimed  Pen,  "where  did  you 
hear  of  it  ? " 

"Wasn't    she    at    the   donation?"   asked   Corry. 


THE    WORD-BATTLE  AT  COBBLEVILLE.      1 05 

"Didn't  she  ride  home  with  Vosh  Stebbins  ?     Guess 
she's  heard  as  much  as  anybody." 

That  was  not  a  bad  guess  ;  but  it  soon  appeared 
that  Susie  was  as  much  in  earnest  over  the  results 
of  the  match  as  if  she  were  a  regular  Benton-valley 
settler,  instead  of  a  mere  visitor. 

There  was  plenty  of  enthusiasm  warming  up,  but 
Deacon  Farnham  seemed  inclined  to  throw  cold 
water  on  their  hope  of  victory.  He  reminded  them 
of  the  disastrous  manner  in  which  their  district 
champions  had  already  been  defeated  twice  in  suc- 
cession. 

"They've  had  a  pretty  good  teacher,  too,  all 
winter,"  he  said. 

"  So've  we,"  said  Corry ;  "and  some  of  us  have 
been  putting  in  on  our  spelling  more'n  any  thing 
else." 

"  That's  good.  Maybe  they  have  too.  I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  Vosh  was  the  best  man  you've  got." 

"Perhaps  he  is,  and  perhaps  he  isn't.  Anyhow, 
we're  going  to  have  fair  play  this  time.  Their 
teacher  isn't  going  to  put  out  the  words.  There'll 
be  a  committee." 

"  "That's  better;  but  I'm  afraid  there  won't  be  any 
prize  brought  back  to  this  valley." 

"It's  a  splendid  prize!"  exclaimed  Pen,  —  "a 
great  big  dixinary." 

"A  dictionary,  eh?" 


IO6  WINTER  FUN. 

"Yes,"  said  Port;  "and  all  the  words  spelled  are 
to  be  given  out  from  it." 

"Any  kind  of  words  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly.  They  must  be  just  such  words  as 
people  use,  but  they  can  be  as  long  as  they  can  find 
in  the  book." 

"That  won't  hurt  one  side  more'n  it  will  the 
other,"  said  Mrs.  Farnham. 

"  Besides,"  said  Pen,  "  more  of  us  had  to  sit  down 
on  short  words  than  long  ones  last  year." 

"  Sit  down  ?  "  asked  Port. 

"When  they  missed.  You'll  see  when  you  get 
there,"  replied  Corry.  "  It's  awful  to  sit  down  on  a 
mistake,  with  a  whole  meeting-house  full  of  people 
looking  at  you  and  laughing." 

"  I  should  say  it  was." 

There  were  four  pairs  of  eyes  in  that  one  house, 
right  away  after  breakfast,  busy  over  the  long  rows 
of  words  in  some  spelling-books,  and  wondering  if 
there  were  any  there  they  had  forgotten. 

"I  knew  'em  all  once,"  said  Pen;  "but  they  always 
look  different  when  you're  told  'em  from  the  pulpit." 

Over  at  the  Stebbins  homestead  it  was  very  much 
the  same. 

"Vosh,"  said  his  mother,  "you  was  a  dreadful 
long  time  at  the  barn." 

"Well,  mother,  I  staid  till  I'd  spelled  over  every 
thing  I  could  see.  There's  a  good  many  names  to 


THE    WORD-BATTLE  AT  COBBLEVILLE.         IO/ 

things  around  a  stable,  and  I  spelled  every  one 
of  'em." 

"  Did  you  git  'em  right,  Vosh  ?  " 

"Guess  I  did." 

"Would  it  do  ye  any  good  to  have  some  other  kind 
of  spellin'-book,  so  you'd  know  more  words  ?  " 

"That  isn't  the  trouble,  mother.  It  kind  o'  seems 
to  me  I  know  so  many  now,  I  can't  remember  half 
of  'em." 

"Don't  you  git  spelled  down,  now,  Vosh.  You 
won't,  will  ye,  not  with  Susie  Hudson  and  her 
brother  a-lookin'  on  ? " 

Vosh's  face  put  on  a  pretty  sober  expression  as 
he  muttered,  — 

"Guess  I  wouldn't  like  that." 

The  quiet  winter  days  went  by  mpidly,  and  noth- 
ing came  in  them  to  interrupt  in  any  way  the 
steadily  growing  excitement  over  the  great  spelling- 
match. 

All  the  arrangements  for  it  were  discussed  over 
and  over,  until  at  last  there  was  nothing  more  to  be 
settled,  and  the  set  day  came. 

"  Corry,"  said  Port,  when  the  sleigh  drove  to  the 
door  after  supper,  and  they  were  hurrying  on  their 
overcoats,  "  seems  to  me  I  couldn't  spell  the  shortest 
word  I  ever  heard." 

"  If  you  get  scared,  you'll  miss,  sure's  you  live. 
Now,  Port,  we've  just  got  to  beat  'em." 


108  WINTER  FUN. 

Vosh  and  his  cutter  came  up  at  that  moment,  and 
Mrs.  Stebbins  stepped  out  with  the  remark,  — 

"Deacon,  you  must  make  room  for  me.  I'll  swop 
with  Susie.  I  want  a  talk  with  Judith  and  Sarah." 

"Come,  Susie,"  said  Vosh.  "I've  been  teaching 
my  colt  to  spell." 

There  was  no  spare  room  in  the  big  sleigh,  for  the 
farmhouse  was  left  in  charge  of  Ponto  and  the  hired 
man. 

Mrs.  Farnham  and  aunt  Judith  would  not  for  any 
thing  have  missed  hearing  for  themselves  how  Penel- 
ope and  Coriolanus,  and  Susie  and  Porter,  managed 
their  long  words  at  Cobbleville. 

The  red  cutter  was  jingling  away  down  the  road 
before  the  black  span  was  in  motion,  but  somehow 
the  two  sets  of  passengers  reached  Cobbleville  at 
about  the  same  time.  Eight  miles  of  excellent 
sleighing  does  not  last  long  before  fast  horses,  and 
there  was  to  be  no  such  thing  as  being  late. 

"  This  is  Cobbleville,  Susie." 

"It's  not  so  much  bigger  than  Benton.  I  don't 
believe  we  shall  be  beaten." 

Something  like  that  same  suggestion  cheered  up 
Porter  Hudson  a  little,  as  the  deacon  drove  into  the 
village ;  but  the  faces  of  Pen  and  Corry  were  very 
serious.  There  was  a  great  trial  before  them,  and 
they  knew  it,  —  a  very  great  trial ;  for  the  tall- 
steepled,  white-painted  meeting-house  in  the  middle 


THE    WORD-BATTLE  AT  COBBLEVILLE.         ICX) 

of  the  village-green  was  hardly  large  enough  to 
hold  the  crowd  which  was  now  pouring  into  it. 
The  people  had  come  from  miles  and  miles  all  over 
the  country ;  and  those  of  the  Cobbleville  district 
were  not  only  the  more  numerous,  but  seemed  to  be 
in  a  sort  of  exultation  over  a  victory  they  were  sure 
to  win. 

Deacon  Farnham  and  his  party  managed  to  secure 
seats,  and  then  they  could  look  around  them.  Up 
on  the  platform,  behind  the  pulpit-desk,  were  several 
very  dignified  gentlemen  ;  and  it  did  the  Benton  peo- 
ple good  to  see  Elder  Evans  among  them. 

"He's  come  to  see  fair  play,"  whispered  Corry. 
"  He  won't  let  'em  put  out  any  words  they  ought  not 
to.  Our  chance  is  good." 

That  was  encouraging ;  and  at  that  very  moment 
Elder  Evans  arose,  and  came  forward  to  say.  to  his 
own  parishioners,  — 

"  Some  of  our  friends  of  the  Cobbleville  district 
have  visitors  among  their  young  people,  and  the 
committee  have  consented  to  their  taking  part  in 
the  exercises." 

"That  fixes  you  and  Susie  all  right,"  said  Corry. 
"They  can't  object  to  you  now." 

Of  course  not ;  and  the  other  final  arrangements 
were  speedily  completed. 

It  was  simple  enough,  or  would  have  been  if  there 
had  not  been  so  many  boys  and  girls  who  had  not 


IIO  WINTER  FUN. 

learned  to  stand  still.  The  pews  and  the  galleries, 
all  but  a  few  of  the  very  forward  pews,  were  given 
up  to  the  general  public. 

The  young  folk  from  the  Benton  district  were 
made  to  stand  in  the  right-hand  aisle,  in  a  line  that 
reached  from  the  platform  to  the  door.  The  other 
aisle  belonged  to  Cobbleville,  and  its  line  of  spellers 
came  near  being  a  double  one. 

"Two  to  our  one,  Port,"  said  Corry ;  "but  they'll 
thin  out  fast  enough  after  we  begin  to  spell." 

There  was  no  such  thing  as  selecting  places  at 
first.  The 'spelling  began  at  the  head  of  each  line, 
alternating  from  one  to  the  other.  If  the  speller 
missed,  he  or  she  sat  down  wherever  a  seat  could 
be  found ;  but,  as  fast  as  words  were  spelled  rightly, 
their  happy  victors  were  entitled  to  march  to  the 
heads  of  their  lines,  and  so  these  were  kept  continu- 
ally in  motion.  It  was  a  proud  thing  to  walk  up  the 
whole  length  of  that  meeting-house  again  and  again, 
but  it  was  not  so  proud  to  walk  down  the  aisle  hunt- 
ing for  a  seat. 

"  I  see  how  it  is,"  said  Port. 

"  Yes,  it's  great  fun  ;  and  the  last  one  up  gets  the 
dictionary." 

It  had  been  agreed  that  neither  of  the  school- 
teachers should  give  out  the  words,  and  Elder  Evans 
had  modestly  insisted  that  the  pastor  of  the  Cobble- 
ville church  should  perform  that  duty. 


THE    WORD-BATTLE  AT  COBBLEVILLE.         Ill 

"Won't  he  kill  'em  off,  though!"  exclaimed  Corry 
dolefully. 

"Won't  he  play  fair?" 

"  Why,  yes,  he'll  be  honest  enough,  I  s'pose.  But 
then  he  pronounces  so  !  Wait  till  you  hear  him." 

It  was  about  time  to  begin,  and  the  two  boys  and 
Pen  found  themselves  quite  a  little  distance  down 
the  line  below  Vosh  and  Susie. 

"  That's  Elder  Keyser.  Oh,  but  isn't  that  a  big 
dictionary  !  Hush  !  he's  giving  out  a  word." 

Nobody  needed  to  be  told  that,  for  it  was  given  in 
a  deep,  very  heavy  voice,  that  was  heard  all  over  the 
house ;  but  Port  at  once  understood  all  about  Elder 
Keyser's  pronunciation. 

The  poor  word  was  in  a  manner  tumbled  neck 
and  heels  out  of  the  good  man's  mouth,  with  a  sort 
of  vocal  kick  to  hurry  it ;  and  there  were  chances  of 
serious  injury  to  any  syllable  that  should  happen  to 
stumble. 

"  Hypocrite  !  "  shouted  the  elder  to  the  curly- 
headed  youngster  at  the  head  of  the  Cobbleville  line. 

«H-i-p"  — 

"That'll  do.  Give  an  example,  and  take  your 
seat." 

"  Example,"  piped  the  boy,  "  puttin'  a  bad  cent  in 
the  contribution-box." 

"  Next.     Hypocrite." 

The  bright  little  girl  at  the  head  of  the  Bcnton 


112  WINTER  FUN. 

aisle  spelled  it  correctly,  and  Elder  Evans  raised  his 
head  high  to  smile  on  her. 

The  words  were  now  given  out  with  something 
like  rapidity ;  and  there  was  a  constant  stream  of 
boys  and  girls  walking  up  the  aisles,  and  of  others 
coming  in  the  opposite  directions.  Every  one  of  the 
latter  seemed  to  be  muttering,  — 

"  I  knew  that  word  just  as  well !  " 

It  was  well  that  the  front  pews  had  been  kept  for 
unlucky  spellers ;  but  a  seat  in  one  of  them  was 
hardly  looked  upon  as  a  prize. 

"Port,"  said  Corry  gleefully,  "they're  thinning  out 
fast.  Think  of  a  girl  and  two  boys  going  down  on 
such  a  word  as  '  rotation ' !  " 

"Was  that  it?  I  thought  he  said  'rundition;' 
and  I'd  never  seen  it  anywhere.  He'll  stumble  me, 
sure's  you  live." 

It  was  nearly  their  turn  ;  and  they  one  after  the 
other  felt  a  ton  or  so  lighter  when  they  were  able 
to  march  to  the  front,  instead  of  going  to  find  seats. 

Before  that,  however,  Elder  Keyser  had  thrown  as 
hard  a  word  as  he  could  find  at  the  head  of  Vosh 
Stebbins. 

"  Glad  he  had  to  say  it  slow,"  thought  Vosh. 
"Guess  he  never  tried  it  before.  I  can  do  it." 

He  was  safe  for  the  time,  and  the  next  Cobble ville 
boy  went  down  on  an  easy  word  that  then  came 
across  to  Susie.  She  was  conscious  of  a  great  deal 


THE    WORD-BATTLE  AT  COBBLEVILLE.         113 

of  red  in  her  face  ;  but  she  spelled  it  clearly  and 
correctly,  and  that  sent  her  to  the  head,  and  next  to 
Vosh  again. 

Twice  more  around,  and  the  lines  of  young  people 
in  the  aisles  were  not  nearly  so  long  as  at  first. 

There  had  been,  moreover,  an  almost  continual 
roar  of  laughter  over  the  examples  of  use  given  by 
the  unfortunates. 

Hardly  were  Port  and  Corry  safe  on  the  second 
round,  before  Elder  Keyser  blurted  out  to  the  next 
boy  a  word  that  sounded  like  — 

"Ber'L" 

"Bar'l,  b-a-r-r"  — 

"That'll  do.     Example?" 

"  A  bar'l  of  flour." 

"Next.     Ber'l." 

"Ber'l,  b-e-r-y-1." 

"  Down.     Wrong.     Example  ? " 

"  Beryl,  a  precious  stone ; "  and  the  blushing 
damsel  sorrowfully  slipped  aside  into  one  of  the 
front  pews. 

"Next.     Ber'l." 

"Berril,  b-u-r-r-i-a-l." 

"  Wrong.     Down.     Example  ? " 

"Berril,  the  berril  of  Surgeon  Moore.  I've  heerd 
'em  sing  it." 

That  boy  sat  down ;  but  the  young  lady  opposite 
spelled  "  burial "  correctly,  even  if  she  pronounced 
it  "burriel." 


114  WINTER  FUN. 

Once  more  round  ;  and  now  Cobbleville  could  show 
barely  twenty,  and  the  Benton  district  hardly  a 
baker's  dozen. 

"We're  getting  'em,"  chuckled  Corry.  "They've 
lost  some  of  their  best  spellers  on  old  Keyser's  pro- 
nunciation." 

Alas  for  Corry!  His  turn  came  to  him  next  upon 
a  word  the  sound  of  which  he  was  sure  he  caught. 

"Stood,  s-t-oo-d." 

"  Wrong.     Down.     Example  ? " 

"  Stewed,  then  !  "  roared  Corry  in  undisguised 
vexation.  "  Example  :  '  The  boy  stewed  on  the  burn- 
ing deck.' " 

"Next."  The  word  sounded  a  little  shorter  this 
time ;  and  the  Cobbleville  champion,  whose  turn  it 
was,  began,  — 

"Stud,  s-t-u-d." 

"  Wrong.     Down.     Example  ? " 

'"  One  of  my  shirt-studs  ; "  and  down  he  went  in 
a  great  roar  of  laughter,  while  Porter  Hudson  took 
the  hint  Corry's  "example  "  had  given  him,  and  went 
to  the  head  again  on  "stewed." 

The  rounds  went  by  rapidly  now ;  and  each  one 
sent  down  somebody  in  disgrace,  while  the  excite- 
ment of  the  audience  was  visibly  increasing. 

"Susie,"  whispered  Vosh,  "we've  got  as  many  left 
standing  as  they  have.  Keyser's  killing  'em  off  fast,, 
though." 


THE    WORD-BATTLE  AT  COBBLEVILLE.         115 

"That's  what  I'm  afraid  of." 

"  Don't  spell  a  word  till  you  know  what  it  is,  even 
if  you  have  to  ask  him." 

"I'd  never  dare  do  that." 

"I  would,  then." 

She  was  just  above  him,  and  in  another  moment 
her  trial  came.  Vosh  saw  the  puzzled,  troubled  ex- 
pression on  her  face,  and  he  came  to  the  rescue. 

"  Elder  Keyser,"  he  sang  out,  "  was  that  word 
'  mystery,'  or  '  mastery,'  or  '  monastery,'  or  was  it 
'mercy'?  There's  a  difference  in  the  spelling  of 
'em." 

"  Silence ! " 

"  Silence,  s-i-1-e-n-c-e,"  gravely  spelled  Susie,  while 
the  whole  meeting-house  rang  with  the  applause  that 
greeted  her. 

"  Next.  Spell  '  misery,'  "  sharply  exclaimed  Elder 
Keyser ;  and  a  very  pretty  young  lady  of  Cobbleville 
was  so  far  disconcerted  by  the  suddenness  of  it,  that 
she  actually  began,  — 

"Misery,  m-i-z  "  — 

"  Wrong.     Down.     Example  ?  " 

"Misery  —  ah  !  nothing  to  eat." 

Susie  was  safe  for  that  round ;  and  in  the  next 
Elder  Keyser  was  almost  spitefully  slow  and  correct 
in  uttering  the  word  he  gave  her. 

During  all  that  time,  the  older  people  from  the 
farmhouse  had  been  watching  the  course  of  events 


Il6  WINTER  FUN. 

with  no  small  degree  of  exultation  over  the  success 
of  their  young  representatives. 

Corry  had  joined  them,  and  about  his  first  remark 
was, — 

"  Oh,  but  won't  old  Keyser  be  a  popular  man  in 
Cobbleville  after  to-night !  He'd  better  go  in  for  a 
donation.  Half  the  boys  in  the  village'd  like  to 
snowball  him  on  his  way  home." 

The  game  grew  closer.  Barely  six  on  a  side,  when 
Corry  exclaimed,  — 

"That  cross-eyed  girl's  down!  She  was  the  best 
speller  they  had  last  year.  Too  bad,  too.  She 
spelled  'bunch,'  when  what  old  Keyser  said  was 
'bench.'  It's  a  good  deal  too  much  to  have  to  guess 
at  what's  in  his  mouth,  and  then  spell  it." 

"  Dear,  dear !  "  exclaimed  aunt  Judith  a  moment 
later.  "Here  comes  Pen." 

"Such  luck  she's  had!"  said  Corry.  "Nothing 
harder  than  'melon'  since  she  began.  Now  it's 
Port's  turn.  Here  he  comes." 

"  Port,"  said  Mrs.  Farnham,  "  what  was  that 
word  ? " 

"'Baratry,'  and  I  thought  he  said  'battery;'  and 
that  long-necked  Cobbleville  boy  said  '  bartery,'  and 
gave  'swopping  jackknives  '  for  an  example." 

It  could  not  last  much  longer  now. 

"There!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Stebbins,  "if  my  Vosh 
ain't  all  alone  on  our  side  !  O  Lavawjer !  " 


THE    WORD-BATTLE  AT  COBBLEVILLE.         1 1/ 

"  O  Susie  !  "  groaned  Port,  "  to  think  of  her  spell- 
ing '  elopement '  without  any  middle  '  e  ' ! " 

She  had  done  it  by  a  slip  of  the  tongue,  and,  when 
asked  for  an  example,  stammered  out,  — 

"Elopement,  a  runaway,"  and  left  Vosh  to  fight 
what  there  was  left  of  Cobbleville.  There  would 
have  been  three  against  him,  if  a  bright  boy  had  not 
forgotten  how  many  "1's"  there  should  be  in  "trav- 
eller," and  then  given  himself  for  an  example  as  he 
shot  away  down  the  aisle. 

Vosh  knew  how  to  spell  "  traveller ; "  and  the  next 
word  went  across  the  house  to  be  spelled  as  "  por- 
ringer," when  all  the  elder  wanted  was  "porridge." 

"Two  left,"  said  Mrs.  Stebbins,  — "that  there 
dumpy  gal  and  my  Vosh." 

"She's  one  of  the  smartest  girls  in  all  Cobble- 
ville," said  Corry. 

"  She  ain't  as  smart  as  my  Vosh." 

Opinions  might  vary  on  a  point  like  that ;  and 
every  time  the  healthy-looking  young  lady  whom 
Mrs.  Stebbins  so  unkindly  described  as  "  dumpy " 
spelled  a  word  correctly,  her  conduct  was  approved 
by  Cobbleville  in  a  rousing  round  of  applause.  All 
that  Vosh's  friends  could  do  for  him  was  as  nothing 
to  it,  but  he  had  his  revenge.  On  the  fourth  word, 
after  they  were  left  alone,  the  applause  began  too 
soon. 

The  healthy  young  lady  remembered  too  well  the 


Il8  WINTER  FUN. 

nature  of  Susie  Hudson's  blunder,  and  she  rashly 
inserted  an  unnecessary  "e"  in  "fusibility." 

"Wrong.     Down.     Example?" 

"Fusibility  —  example!"  —  a  long,  confused  hesi- 
tation—  "butter,  sir." 

And  the  hasty  multitude  of  Cobbleville  had  been 
loudly  cheering  the  unlucky  "e  "  which  the  triumph- 
ant Vosh  the  next  moment  very  carefully  omitted. 

Didn't  Benton  cheer  then  ! 

"  Vosh  has  got  the  dictionary ! "  all  but  shouted 
his  happy  mother.  "I  declare,  I'll  read  it  through." 

"If  she  does,"  whispered  Corry  to  Port,  "she'll 
never  stop  talking  again  as  long  as  she  lives." 

"  She'd  have  all  the  words  she'd  need  to  keep  her 
a-going." 

The  ceremony  of  presenting  the  prize  was  grace- 
fully turned  over  to  Elder  Evans  by  his  reverend 
friend  and  the  committee.  The  good  man  seemed 
to  take  a  special  pleasure  in  delivering  so  very  large 
a  book  to  "a  young  member  of  his  own  flock,"  as  he 
expressed  it.  It  must  be  confessed  that  Vosh  looked 
more  than  a  little  "sheepish"  when  he  walked  for- 
ward, and  held  out  his  hands  for  the  prize. 

The  great  spelling-match  was  over,  and  the  crowd 
of  old  and  young  spectators  began  to  disperse. 

Before  the  Cobbleville  boys  could  make  up  their 
minds  clearly  whether  it  was  their  duty  to  snowball 
Elder  Keyser  or  the  Benton-district  folk,  the  latter 
were  mostly  on  their  way  home. 


THE    WORD-BATTLE  AT  COBBLEVILLE.       1 19 

"  Susie,"  said  Vosh,  as  he  stowed  the  dictionary 
carefully  away  in  the  red  cutter,  "  I  wish  you'd  won 
it." 

"  I'm  real  glad  I  didn't,  then.  Our  side  beat,  and 
that's  quite  enough  for  me." 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

AN    OLD-FASHIONED    SNOW. 

THERE  had  been  several  light  and  fleecy  falls  of 
snow  since  the  arrival  of  the  "  city  cousins "  at  the 
farmhouse,  but  they  had  been  only  about  enough  to 
keep  the  sleighing  in  good  order.  The  weather  was 
bracingly  cold ;  but,  for  all  that,  aunt  Judith  more 
than  once  felt  called  upon  to  remark,  — 

"The  winters  nowadays  ain't  nothin*  at  all  to 
what  they  used  to  be." 

"We'll  have  more  snow  yet,"  said  the  deacon. 
"Don't  you  be  afraid." 

"  Snow,  Joshaway !  Well,  if  you've  forgotten,  I 
haven't.  I've  seen  this  place  of  ourn  jest  snowed 
in  for  days  and  days,  so't  you  couldn't  git  to  the 
village  at  all  till  the  roads  was  broke." 

Mrs.  Stebbins  had  had  a  great  deal  more  to  say 
about  it,  all  in  the  same  strain ;  and  the  only  con- 
solation seemed  to  be,  in  the  language  of  Deacon 
Farnham,  — 


AN  OLD-FASHIONED  SNOW.  121 

"  It's  the  best  kind  of  a  winter  for  the  lumbermen. 
The  choppers  haven't  had  to  lose  a  day  of  time,  and 
the  haulin's  the  best  you  ever  heard  tell  of." 

Just  snow  enough,  and  no  more.  That  sort  of 
thing  was  not  to  be  securely  counted  on,  however, 
as  they  were  all  about  to  learn.  The  very  Satur- 
day after  the  spelling-match,  the  morning  opened 
with  a  sort  of  haze  creeping  over  the  north-eastern 
sky. 

It  seemed  to  drift  down  from  somewhere  among 
the  mountains,  and  by  noon  the  snow  began  to  fall. 

"  Boys,"  said  the  deacon,  "  it's  going  to  be  a  big 
one  this  time,  real  old-fashioned  sort.  We  must  get 
out  the  shovels,  and  keep  the  paths  open." 

It  hardly  seemed  necessary  to  do  any  shovelling 
yet ;  but  the  white  flakes  fell  faster  and  faster,  hour 
after  hour,  and  night  came  on  earlier  than  usual. 

"  Now,  Port,"  said  Corry,  "  if  you  and  I  know 
what's  good  for  ourselves,  we'll  lay  in  all  the  wood 
we'll  need  for  to-morrow  and  next  day.  Every 
thing'll  be  snowed  clean  under." 

"That's  so,  but  I  wouldn't  ha'  missed  seeing  it 
come." 

Neither  would  Susie ;  and  she  and  Pen  watched  it 
from  the  sitting-room  windows,  while  even  aunt 
Judith  came  and  stood  beside  them,  and  declared,  — 

"There,  now,  that's  something  like;"  and  Mrs. 
Farnham  remarked  in  a  tone  of  exultation,  — 


122  WINTER  FUN. 

"  You  never  saw  any  thing  like  that  in  the  city, 
Susie." 

"Never,  aunt  Sarah.  It's  splendid.  It's  the 
grandest  snow-storm  I  ever  heard  of." 

There  was  very  little  wind  as  yet,  and  the  flutter- 
ing flakes  lay  still  where  they  fell. 

"All  the  snow  that  couldn't  get  down  before  is 
coming  now,"  said  Pen.  "There's  ever  so  much  of 
it.  I  like  snow." 

More  and  more  of  it ;  and  the  men  and  boys  came 
in  from  the  barns  after  supper  as  white  as  so  many 
polar  bears,  to  stamp  and  laugh  and  be  brushed  till 
the  color  of  their  clothes  could  be  seen. 

Then  the  wind  began  to  rise,  and  the  whole  family 
felt  like  gathering  closely  around  the  fireplace  ;  and 
the  flames  poured  up  the  wide  chimney  as  if  they 
were  ready  to  fight  that  storm. 

The  boys  cracked  nuts,  and  popped  corn,  and 
played  checkers.  The  deacon  read  his  newspaper. 
Mrs.  Farnham  and  aunt  Judith  plied  their  knitting. 
Susie  showed  Pen  how  to  crochet  a  tidy.  It  was 
very  cosey  and  comfortable ;  but  all  the  while  they 
could  hear  blast  after  blast,  as  they  came  howling 
around  the  house,  and  hurled  the  snow  fiercely  against 
the  windows. 

"  Isn't  it  grand  ?  "  said  Port  at  last.  "  But  we'll 
have  some  shovelling  to  do  in  the  morning," 

"  Guess  we  will ! " 


AN  OLD-FASHIONED  SNOW.  123 

"  And  you'll  have  a  good  time  getting  to  school." 

"School!  If  this  keeps  on  all  night,  there  won't 
be  any  going  to  meeting  to-morrow,  let  alone  school 
on  Monday." 

It  did  keep  on  all  night ;  and  the  blinding  drifts 
were  whirling  before  the  wind  with  a  gustier  sweep 
than  ever,  when  the  farmhouse  people  peered  out  at 
them  next  morning. 

Every  shovel  they  could  furnish  a  pair  of  hands  for 
had  to  be  at  work  good  and  early,  and  the  task  before 
them  had  a  kind  of  impossible  look  about  it. 

The  cattle  and  sheep  and  horses  had  all  been 
carefully  sheltered.  Even  the  poultry  had  received 
special  attention  from  their  human  protectors.  They 
were  all  sure  to  be  found  safe  and  warm,  but  the  dif- 
ficulty now  was  in  finding  them  at  all. 

There  was  a  drift  nearly  ten  feet  high  between  the 
house  and  the  pigpen,  and  a  worse  one  was  piled  up 
over  the  gate  leading  into  the  barnyard. 

How  those  pigs  did  squeal,  while  they  impatiently 
waited  for  the  breakfast  which  was  so  very  long  in 


coming 


"They're  nearest,  father,"  said  Corry.  "Hadn't 
we  better  stop  that  noise,  first  thing  we  do  ? " 

"You  and  Port  go  for  them." 

They  dug  away  manfully  at  that  drift,  or,  rather, 
at  the  hole  they  meant  to  make  through  it,  while 
the  grown-up  shovellers  toiled  in  the  direction  of  the 
barnyard-gate. 


124  WINTER  FUN. 

"  Corry,"  said  Port,  "  don't  you  think  this  is  pretty 
hard  work  for  Sunday  morning  ? " 

"  Those  pigs  don't  know  any  thing  about  Sunday. 
The  cows  don't  either.  They  get  hungry,  just  the 
same." 

"  I  s'pose  it's  all  right." 

"  Right !  You  trust  father  for  that.  He  says  the 
Lord  made  Sunday,  and  the  Lord  sent  the  snow,  and 
we  needn't  worry  about  it.  The  Lord  wants  all  his 
cattle  fed  regularly." 

"  Did  your  father  say  that  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  heard  him  saying  it  to  aunt  Judith." 

"It's  all  right,  then.  But  don't  you  think  it's 
pretty  hard  work  for  any  kind  of  day  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  it's  fun.  Hear  those  pigs  !  They  know 
we're  coming." 

It  sounded  a  great  deal  as  if  the  hungry  quadru- 
peds in  the  pen  were  explaining  their  condition  to  all 
the  outside  world,  or  trying  to,  and  cared  very  little 
how  much  work  it  might  cost  to  bring  them  their 
breakfast. 

Their  neighbors  in  the  stables  and  barn  made  less 
fuss  about  the  matter,  but  they  had  even  longer  to 
wait.  Before  the  great  drift  at  the  gate  could  be 
conquered,  it  was  breakfast-time  for  human  beings, 
and  there  was  never  a  morning  when  coffee  and  hot 
cakes  seemed  more  perfectly  appropriate. 

While  the  human  workers  were  busy  at  the  break- 


AN  OLD-FASHIONED  SArOir.  125 

fast-table,  the  snow  and  wind  did  not  take  any  rest- 
ing spell,  but  kept  right  on,  doing  their  best  to 
restore  the  damaged  drifts. 

"  Susie,"  said  Port,  "  doesn't  this  make  you  think 
of  Lapland?" 

"  Or  Greenland,  or  Siberia  ?  " 

"Tell  you  what,"  said  Corry,  "I  don't  believe  the 
Russians  get  any  thing  much  better  than  this." 

"  If  they  do,"  said  aunt  Judith,  "  I  don't  want  to 
live  there.  There  won't  be  any  going  to  meeting 
to-day." 

"  Meeting !  "  exclaimed  the  deacon.  "  There'll  be 
a  dozen  big  drifts  between  this  and  the  village.  All 
hands'll  have  to  turn  out  to  breaking  roads,  soon  as 
the  storm  lets  up." 

No  end  of  it  was  reached  that  day ;  but  the  barn 
was  reached,  and  all  the  quadrupeds  and  bipeds 
were  found,  safe  and  hungry,  and  were  carefully  at- 
tended to. 

"  We  sha'n't  get  into  the  woods  again  right  away," 
said  Corry ;  and  he  was  right  about  that,  but  there 
was  a  thoughtful  look  on  Susie's  face  as  she  re- 
marked, — 

"  I  wonder  how  Mrs.  Stebbins  is  getting  along. 
There's  nobody  there  but  Vosh." 

"  He's  a  worker,"  said  the  deacon.  "  He's  very 
strong  for  his  age,  —  likeliest  youngster  in  the  whole 
valley.  We  can't  get  over  there  to-day,  but  we  will 
to-morrow." 


126  WINTER  FUN. 

That  had  indeed  been  a  busy  time  for  Vosh,  hard 
and  late  as  he  had  worked  the  night  before ;  and  his 
mother  came  out  to  help  him. 

"It  ain't  no  time  to  talk,  Lavawjer,"  she  said  to 
him ;  "  but  I  do  wish  I  knowed  how  the  deacon's 
folks  was  a-gettin'  on^  They  must  be  pretty  nigh 
snowed  under." 

"  Guess  they're  all  right,  but  it'll  give  Susie  and 
Port  some  notion  of  what  snow  can  do  in  the 
country." 

Away  on  into  the  night  the  great  northern  gusts 
worked  steadily ;  but  towards  morning  it  seemed  as 
if  the  storm  decided  that  it  had  done  enough,  and  it 
began  to  subside.  Now  and  then  it  again  took  hold 
as  if  it  had  still  a  drift  or  so  to  finish  ;  but  by  sunrise 
every  thing  was  still  and  calm  and  wonderfully  white. 

"This'll  be  a  working-day,  I  guess,"  said  the  dea- 
con; "but  all  the  paths  we  make'll  stay  made." 

There  was  some  comfort  in  that ;  for  all  they  had 
made  on  Sunday  had  to  be  shovelled  out  again,  and 
the  pigs  were  as  noisy  as  ever. 

The  deacon  insisted  on  digging  out  every  gate  so 
it  would  swing  wide  open  ;  and  all  the  paths  were 
made  wide  and  clear,  walled  high  on  either  side  with 
tremendous  banks  of  snow.  It  was  after  dinner,  and 
the  workers  were  getting  a  little  weary  of  it,  before 
they  could  open  the  front-gate. 

Susie  was  watching  them  from  the  windows,  and 


AN  OLD-FASHIONED  SNOW.  I2/ 

Pen  was  in  the  front-yard,  vigorously  punching  a 
snow-bank  with  a  small  shovel,  when  aunt  Judith 
suddenly  exclaimed  right  over  Susie's  shoulder,  — 

"  Sakes  alive  !  There's  somethin'  a-stirrin'  in  the 
road.  What  can  it  be  ?  —  Sarah,  call  to  Joshaway  ! 
There's  a  human  critter  out  there  in  the  snow." 

Susie  almost  held  her  breath,  for  there  was  surely 
a  commotion  in  the  great  drift  a  few  rods  beyond 
the  gate.  The  boys  saw  it  too,  and  they  and  the 
deacon  and  the  hired  man  began  to  shout,  as  if 
shouting  would  help  a  fellow  in  a  deep  snow. 

"Father,"  said  Corry,  "shall  we  go  and  see  who 
it  is?" 

"  Not  as  long  as  he  can  thrash  around  like  that. 
He'll  get  through." 

"He's  gone  away  under,"  said  Port.  "There  he 
comes  —  no,  he's  under  again.  It's  awful  deep." 

"  He'll  be  smothered." 

Susie  was  watching  that  commotion  in  the  snow 
as  she  had  never  watched  any  thing  before,  and  just 
then  a  fleecy  head  came  out  on  this  side  of  the  high 
drift. 

"  Aunt  Judith  !  —  Aunt  Sarah  !  —  It's  Vosh  Steb- 
bins  ! " 

"  They're  all  snowed  under,  and  he's  come  through 
to  tell  us.  Oh,  dear !  " 

"  Hurrah,  boys  !  " 

There  was  nothing  at  all  doleful  in  the  ringing 


128  WINTER  FUN. 

shout  Vosh  sent  towards  the  house  the  moment  he 
got  the  snow  out  of  his  mouth. 

"  Have  you  got  any  snow  at  your  house  ?  There's 
more'n  we  want  up  our  way.  Let  ye  have  loads  of  it, 
and  not  charge  a  cent." 

"  Come  on,  Vosh,"  said  the  deacon.  "  How'd  you 
find  the  roads  ?  " 

"  Sleighin'  enough  to  last  all  summer,  if  you  don't 
waste  it.  More  like  swimming  than  walking." 

"I'd  say  it  was.     Come  on  in  and  warm  yourself." 

Both  the  boys  were  brushing  the  snow  from  him 
as  soon  as  he  got  to  the  gate,  and  all  the  women-folk 
were  out  on  the  stoop  to  welcome  him.  Aunt  Judith 
talked  as  fast  as  his  own  mother  could  have  done, 
and  insisted  on  his  sitting  down  before  the  fireplace 
while  she  brought  him  a  cup  of  coffee,  and  a  glass  of 
currant-wine,  and  a  piece  of  pie,  and  then  she  said 
she  would  make  him  some  pepper-tea. 

"  Now,  Miss  Farnham,"  said  Vosh,  "  I  ain't  hurt  a 
bit." 

"  And  your  mother  ? " 

"Never  was  better;  but  she  was  worried  about 
you  folks,  and  I  said  I'd  come  over  and  see.  —  Susie, 
did  you  know  it'd  been  snowing  a  little  out  of 
doors  ? " 

"  How  did  you  ever  get  through  ? " 

"I  just  burrowed  most  of  the  way,  like  a  wood- 
chuck." 


AN  OLD-FASHIONED  SNOW.  I2Q 

"  You  can't  go  back  by  the  same  hole,"  chuckled 
Corry. 

"  I  could  if  it  was  there.  Guess  I  won't  stay  long, 
though  :  mother'll  be  afraid  I'm  lost  in  the  drift." 

He  was  right  about  that ;  and,  after  a  few  minutes 
of  merry  talk,  they  all  gathered  at  the  front-gate  to 
see  him  plunge  in  again. 

"He'll  get  through,"  said  the  deacon.  "There's 
the  makin'  of  a  man  in  Vosh.  He  goes  right  straight 
ahead  into  any  thing." 

The  last  thing  he  had  said  before  starting  was,  — 

"  All  Benton  Valley'll  be  out  a-breakin'  roads  to- 
morrow." 

"That's  so,"  said  the  deacon  ;  but,  after  Vosh  had 
gone,  he  added,  "  and  snow-ploughs  won't  be  of  any 
kind  of  use." 

"  How'll  we  work  it  ? "  said  Corry. 

"Teams  and  sleds.  It'll  be  a  tough  job,  and  the 
roads'll  be  pretty  rough  for  a  while." 

"Corry,"  said  Port,  "how'll  they  do  it,  —  cart  the 
snow  away  ? " 

"Where'd  they  cart  it  to?  You  just  wait  and 
see." 

They  were  all  tired  enough  to  go  to  bed  early,  but 
the  first  rays  of  daylight  next  morning  saw  them  all 
rushing  out  again.  Port  felt  a  little  stiff  and  sore, 
but  he  determined  to  do  his  part  at  road-breaking. 

The  snow  lay  pretty  level  in  the  roads,  for  the 


130  WINTER  FUN. 

greater  part ;  and  you  could  see  the  top  rails  of  the 
fences  here  and  there,  enough  to  go  by. 

A  little  after  breakfast  the  wide  gate  was  swung 
open,  and  then  the  deacon's  hired  man  came  down 
the  lane,  driving  the  black  team  at  a  sharp  trot,  with 
the  wood-sleigh  behind  them. 

Faster,  faster,  through  the  gate,  and  out  into  the 
snow,  with  a  chorus  of  shouts  to  urge  them  on. 

The  spirited,  powerful  fellows  reared  and  plunged 
and  snorted  ;  but  before  long  they  seemed  almost 
disposed  to  call  it  fun,  and  enjoy  it. 

"  Up  the  road  first !  "  shouted  the  deacon.  "  We'll 
break  that  way  till  we  get  beyond  Stebbins's." 

There  was  work  for  men  and  boys,  as  well  as 
horses  ;  and  the  snow-shovels  were  plied  rapidly  be- 
hind the  plunging  team.  Porter  Hudson  quickly 
understood  that  a  great  deal  of  road  could  be  opened 
in  such  a  way  as  that,  if  all  the  farmers  turned  out  to 
do  it.  They  were  likely  to ;  for  none  of  them  could 
afford  to  be  blocked  in,  and  public  opinion  would 
have  gone  pretty  sharply  against  any  man  who 
dodged  his  share  of  such  important  work  as  that. 

It  was  hardest  on  the  horses,  willingly  as  they 
went  at  it ;  and  at  the  end  of  an  hour  or  so  the  dea- 
con brought  out  his  second  team,  a  pair  of  strong 
brown  plough-horses.  When  they  were  tired,  out 
came  the  best  yoke  of  oxen  ;  and  it  was  fun  enough 
to  see  the  great,  clumsy  creatures,  all  but  buried  in 


AN  OLD-FASHIONED  SNOW.  131 

a  deep  drift,  slowly  but  strongly  shouldering  their 
way  forward,  and  every  now  and  then  trying  to  turn 
around  and  get  out  of  the  scrape. 

"A  skittish  yoke  wouldn't  do,"  said  Corry.  "They 
wouldn't  move  any  way  but  backwards." 

Long  before  that,  the  road  had  been  opened  "  be- 
yond Stebbins's,"  and  Vosh  had  joined  them  with 
his  snow-shovel.  His  paths  were  all  in  a  condition 
that  spoke  well  for  his  industry,  and  the  deacon  told 
him  so.  Mrs.  Stebbins  was  at  the  gate,  and  she 
remarked,  — 

"Tell  ye  what,  deacon,  if  you  think  my  Vosh  can't 
do  any  thing  but  spell  for  dixinaries,  you're  mis- 
taken. He's  a  worker,  he  is." 

"That's  so."  ., 

But  there  was  no  need  of  his  saying  much  more, 
for  there  in  the  road  behind  him  were  Mrs.  Farnham 
and  aunt  Judith,  and  Susie  and  Pen ;  and  you  could 
have  heard  every  voice  among  them,  till  the  front- 
door shut  behind  the  last  one. 

That  was  Pen,  and  her  last  word  had  been  a  shout 
to  Vosh  in  the  road  :  — 

"  We've  got  more  snow  in  our  front-yard  than  you 
have,  anyhow." 

They  were  now  pushing  their  work  towards  the 
village,  and  could  already  catch  glimpses  of  other 
"gangs,"  as  Vosh  called  them,  here  and  there  down 
the  road.  In  some  places,  where  the  snow  was  not  so 


132  WINTER  FUN. 

deep,  they  made  "  turnouts  "  wide  enough  for  loaded 
sleighs  to  pass  each  other. 

"If  we  didn't,"  said  Vosh,  "  one  team'd  have  to  lie 
down  and  let  the  other  drive  over  it." 

He  could  not  tell  Port  that  he  had  ever  seen  that 
done,  but  he  added,  "  I've  had  to  burrow  through  a 
drift,  team  and  all,  when  there  wasn't  any  turnout 
made." 

That  was  very  much  like  what  they  had  been  doing 
all  day,  and  they  kept  it  up  through  all  the  next ;  but, 
when  Tuesday  night  came,  it  was  pretty  clear  that 
"the  roads  were  open."  A  sleigh  came  up  from 
Benton  with  a  man  in  it  who  had  business  with  the 
deacon,  and  who  had  some  remarkable  yarns  to  tell 
about  the  depth  of  the  drifts  on  the  other  side  of  the 
valley. 

"Deacon  Paulding's  house  was  just  drifted  clean 
under,  barns  and  all.  He  had  to  make  a  kind  of  a 
tunnel  to  his  stable,  before  he  could  fodder  his 
critters." 

"  You  don't  say ! "  exclaimed  aunt  Judith.  "  Snowed 
under !  I've  known  that  to  happen  any  number  of 
times  when  I  was  a  girl.  Good  big  houses  too  ;  not 
little  hencoops  of  things,  like  that  there  house  of 
old  Deacon  Paulding's.  He's  a  small  specimen  too. 
He'd  need  a  tunnel  to  git  through  most  any  thin'. 
I  must  say,  though,  this  'ere's  a  right  good  old- 
fashioned  snow,  to  come  in  these  days." 


AN  OLD-FASHIONED  SNOW,  133 

It  was  new-fashioned  enough  to  Porter  and  Susie, 
and  the  former  remarked,  — 

"  Oh,  but  won't  there  be  some  water  when  all  this 
begins  to  melt !  " 

Others  were  thinking  of  that  very  thing,  for  the 
sun  had  been  very  bright  all  day.  It  was  brighter 
still  on  the  day  that  followed ;  and  towards  night  a 
dull,  leaden  fog  arose  in  the  west,  for  the  sun  to  go 
down  in. 

"  Father,"  said  Mrs.  Farnham,  "  do  you  think 
there's  more  snow  coming  ? " 

"  Guess  not,  Sarah.  It  looks  more  like  a  rain  and 
a  thaw." 

"There's  most  always  a  thaw  in  February,  but  it 
'pears  as  if  it  was  a  little  early  in  the  month." 

So  it  was,  and  the  weather  made  a  sort  of  failure 
for  once.  To  be  sure,  there  were  several  hours  next 
day  when  the  winter  seemed  to  have  let  go  its  hold, 
and  while  a  dull,  slow,  cold  rain  came  pouring  down 
upon  the  snow-drifts.  They  settled  under  it  a  little 
sullenly,  and  then  the  wind  shifted  to  the  north-east, 
and  it  grew  cold  enough  for  anybody. 

"I've  known  it  to  do  that  very  thing  when  I  was  a 
girl,"  said  aunt  Judith.  "There'll  be  the  awfullest 
kind  of  a  crust." 

"Glad  we  had  all  our  breaking  done  before  this 
came,"  said  her  brother.  "It'd  be  heavy  work  to  do 
now." 


134  WINTER  FUN. 

The  hard  frost  of  that  night  was  followed  by  a 
crisp  and  bracing  morning,  and  aunt  Judith's  prophe- 
cy was  fulfilled.  The  crust  over  the  great  snow-fall 
was  strong  enough  to  bear  the  weight  of  a  man 
almost  anywhere. 

"Hurrah!"  shouted  Corry,  as  he  climbed  a  drift, 
and  walked  away  towards  the  open  field  beyond. 
"We'll  have  some  fun  now." 

"  What  kind  of  fun  ?  "  asked  Port. 

"  What  kind  ?  Well,  all  kinds,  —sliding  down  hill, 
snow-shoeing  in  the  woods,  all  sorts  of  things." 

"Hurrah  for  all  that!" 

"Boys!"  shouted  Vosh  from  the  front-gate,  "the 
mill-pond  was  flooded  yesterday,  and  it's  frozen  hard 
now.  There's  acres  and  acres  of  the  best  skating 
you  ever  heard  of,  glary  as  a  pane  of  glass." 

There  was  a  shout  then  that  brought  aunt  Judith 
and  Susie  to  the  window,  and  Porter  was  saying  to 
himself,  — 

"Well,  I  am  glad  we  brought  along  our  skates, 
after  all.  There'll  be  a  chance  to  use  'em." 


CHAPTER   IX. 

GRAND     COASTING. 

VOSH  STEBBINS  got  home  from  school  very  early 
Friday  afternoon,  and  his  chores  were  attended  to 
in  a  great  hurry. 

After  that,  his  mother's  mind  was  stirred  to  the 
curiosity  point  by  an  unusual  amount  of  hammering 
out  in  the  barn.  He  was  a  good  deal  of  a  mechani- 
cal genius,  or,  as  she  expressed  it,  "  he  had  a  nateral 
turn  for  tools  ; "  and  he  had  more  than  once  aston- 
ished her  by  the  results  of  his  hammering.  When, 
however,  she  asked  him  what  he  was  up  to,  all  she 
could  get  from  him  was, — 

"I  tell  you  what,  mother,  I'm  going  to  show  'em  a 
new  wrinkle.  Wait  till  morning.  'Tisn't  quite  ready 
yet." 

"  You'd  ort  to  tell  me,  Vosh.  Mebbe  I  could  give 
you  some  idees." 

He  was  very  close-mouthed  for  once,  however,  and 
it  may  be  he  had  some  doubts  about  his  own  "idees." 

'35 


136  WINTER  FUN. 

The  Benton  boys  and  girls  had  not  learned  to  say 
"coasting:"  they  all  called  it  "sliding  down  hill." 
But  the  country  they  lived  in  had  been  planned 
expressly  for  it.  The  hills  around  the  valley  were 
steeper  in  some  places  than  in  others,  but  the  roads 
generally  had  to  wind  more  or  less  in  climbing 
them.  There  was  not  enough  of  travelling  on  any  of 
them  to  interfere  seriously  with  the  free  use  of  sleds, 
and  you  could  almost  always  see  whether  or  not  the 
track  was  clear.  Just  now,  however,  the  very  depth 
of  the  snow  was  in  the  way,  for  the  heavy  sleighs 
had  cut  down  into  it  so  as  to  leave  great  ridges  in 
the  middle.  That  was  enough  to  spoil  the  running 
of  any  thing  narrow.  The  great  storm,  therefore, 
would  have  been  a  bad  thing  in  that  connection,  but 
for  the  thaw  and  freeze,  and  the  splendid,  thick,  icy 
crust. 

Not  more  than  a  mile  east  of  Deacon  Farnham's, 
the  land  sloped  down  almost  gently  for  more  than  a 
mile,  to  the  very  edge  of  the  village ;  and  there  were 
roads  from  that  on,  to  the  borders  of  the  little  river 
and  the  mill-pond.  Of  course  all  that  slope  was  not 
in  one  field ;  but  all  the  low  and  broken  fences  were 
now  snowed  under,  and  it  was  easy  to  take  the  top 
rails  from  the  two  or  three  high  ones,  so  as  to  leave 
wide  gaps.  With  very  little  trouble,  therefore,  the 
boys  prepared  for  their  fun  a  clear,  slippery  descent, 
almost  level  in  some  places,  that  would  have  been 


GRAND   COASTING.  137 

hard  to  beat  anywhere.  The  hollows  were  all  drifted 
full,  and  there  was  a  good  road  on  one  side  to  go  up 
hill  by.  All  that  had  been  duly  explained  to  Susie 
and  Port  by  Corry,  and  their  great  affliction  seemed 
to  be  that  they  only  had  one  sled  among  them. 

"  It'll  hold  you  and  me,  Port,  if  we  stick  on  hard  ; 
besides,  we  can  take  turns." 

"And  I'll  slide  Susie,"  said  Pen. 

Susie  had  very  little  to  say  about  it  during  the 
evening ;  but  the  idea  grew  upon  her  all  the  time, 
and  she  went  out  to  look  at  Corry's  sled  in  the  morn- 
ing, after  breakfast.  Aunt  Judith  stood  in  the  door- 
way, and  heard  her  say,  — 

"  Yes,  it  must  be  splendid ! " 

"  Why,  Susie  Hudson  !  That  sort  of  rompin',  tom- 
boy business  ain't  for  grown-up  young  ladies." 

"  I'm  not  grown-up,  aunt  Judith :  I'm  only  six- 
teen." 

"  Coin'  on  seventeen,  and  you're  from  the  city  too ; 
and  that  there  mite  of  a  sled  —  well,  it's  good  enough 
for  boys." 

Just  then  Corry  sang  out,  — 

"  Halloo,  Vosh !  Going  to  slide  down  hill  in  a 
cutter  ? " 

There  he  was  at  the  gate,  sorrel  colt,  red  blanket, 
bells,  and  all. 

"  Cutter !  No  ;  but  you  wouldn't  have  the  girls 
walk  up  hill  after  every  slide,  would  you  ? " 


138  WINTER  FUN. 

"  The  girls  ! "  exclaimed  aunt  Judith.  "  They  ain't 
a-goin'.  I  won't  hear  to  any  sech  thing." 

"  Now,  Miss  Farnham,  you  come  out  here  and  look 
at  my  sled.  They've  got  one  like  it  over  in  Cobble- 
ville,  only  mine's  bigger.  If  you'll  come  along  with 
us"  — 

"  Me  come !  Sakes  alive !  But  what  have  you 
been  a-doin'  ? " 

"Why,  Vosh,"  said  Corry,  "it's  your  little  old  pair 
of  bobs,  and  you've  rigged  a  box  on  the  hind  one. 
What's  that  in  front  ?  " 

"That's  my  rudder." 

"  Rudder !  You  can't  steer  with  it :  a  rudder 
ought  to  be  behind." 

"  Ought  it,  now  ?  Don't  you  see  ?  The  front  bob 
turns  on  a  pin  in  the  middle,  that  comes  up  through 
the  centre  plank.  I've  greased  it,  so  it  turns  easy. 
See  how  I've  rigged  that  yoke  to  the  front  bob  ?  See 
the  two  arms  a-standing  up  ?  You  pull  on  one  of 
those  arms,  and  you  pull  around  the  head  of  the  bob. 
That  steers  'em.  The  hind  bob  follows  the  front 
one:  can't  help  it,  if  it  tries." 

Aunt  Judith  walked  all  around  it :  she  even  gave 
one  arm  of  that  yoke  a  hard  push  to  see  if  it  would 
really  turn  the  "  bob  "  sled  it  was  geared  to. 

"  Sakes  alive !     It'll  do  it !  " 

Susie  had  hardly  waited  to  say  good-morning  to 
Vosh ;  and  there  she  was  now,  with  her  hood  on, 
exclaiming,  — 


GRAND  ^COASTING.  139 

"  Pen,  Pen  !  why  don't  you  go  and  get  your  things 
on  ?  We  mustn't  keep  Vosh  waiting." 

Pen  was  off  like  a  flash,  and  Corry  remarked  to 
Vosh,  — 

"  That'll  be  just  great,  if  it'll  work." 

"  Work !  It's  sure  to  work.  It's  as  good  as  the 
Cobbleville  'ripper.'  That's  what  they  call  it.  All 
it  wants  is  somebody  strong  in  the  arms  to*  steer." 

"  I'd  never  trust  myself,"  said  aunt  Judith  with  a 
deep  sigh  of  anxiety. 

"  Tell  you  what,  Corry,"  said  Port,  "  we'll  make 
Vosh  haul  us  up  hill.  Won't  have  to  walk." 

"  That's  the  checker.  First  time  I  ever  had  a 
horse  and  a  man  to  help  me  slide  down  hill." 

They  discovered  afterwards  how  important  a  part 
of  the  sport  that  was  ;  but  just  then  they  all  had  to 
join  in  begging  permission  for  Susie  and  Pen  to  go. 
Even  Mrs.  Farnham  had  her  objections,  and  the  dea- 
con himself  was  studying  the  matter ;  when  down  the 
road  came  Mrs.  Stebbins,  and  the  case  was  won  for 
the  young  people. 

"Judith,"  she  asked,  "wasn't  you  and  Sarah  ever 
no  younger'n  you  be  now  ?  It  does  seem  to  me  as  if 
some  folks  forgot  they  was  ever  gals  and  boys,  and 
slid  down  hill,  and  had  a  good  time,  and  wasn't  a 
mite  the  worse  for  it.  Vosh,  he's  been  a-hammerin' 
away  at  that  thing  till  he  jest  knows  it'll  work, 
and  so  do  I.  —  Susie,  you  and  Pen  git  right  into  the 


140  WINTER  FUN. 

cutter,  and  I'll  explain  how  them  bobs'll  steer.  You 
see"  — 

"  Get  in,  Pen,"  said  the  deacon.  "  Get  in,  Susie. 
—  Don't  you  try  too  heavy  a  load,  Vosh." 

"  Joshaway,  they'll  break  all  their  precious  necks." 

"  No,  they  won't.     I'll  risk  it." 

"Judith,"  went  on  Mrs.  Stebbins,  "I'll  tell  ye  all 
about  it ; "  and  that  was  what  she  was  yet  doing, 
after  the  cutter  turned  the  corner  of  the  road  below 
the  house,  with  the  ripper  behind  it,  and  Port  and 
Corry  on  their  sled,  dragging  joyously  astern  of  the 
new  invention. 

The  whole  country  was  icy,  and  glittered  beauti- 
fully white,  in  the  clear,  frosty  sunshine.  When  they 
reached  the  coasting-ground,  it  looked  absolutely  per- 
fect ;  and  a  score  of  sleds,  with  twice  as  many  boys, 
were  already  at  work  upon  it.  The  sliding-down  that 
slope  was  something  to  wonder  at ;  but  the  climbing 
back  again  was  another  thing  altogether.  It  was 
easy  enough  for  Vosh,  however,  to  make  a  bargain 
with  one  of  his  boy-friends  to  do  his  extra  driving 
for  him,  and  have  the  cutter  ready  for  use  every 
time,  with,  of  course,  just  a  little  waiting. 

"  How  often  they  do  slip  down  !  "  exclaimed  Susie, 
after  a  long  look  at  the  climbers  in  the  road. 

"  Some  of  'em'll  be  good  and  lame  to-morrow,"  said 
Corry.  "  I  don't  believe  you  girls'd  ever  get  up  the 
hill  again,  once  you  got  down." 


GRAND   COASTING.  141 

It  had  been  thoughtful  of  Vosh  to  look  out  for 
that ;  but  he  had  had  some  experience  on  that  slope 
in  other  winters,  and  knew  what  he  was  about. 

They  were  on  the  very  upper  level  now.  Vosh 
helped  the  girls  out  of  the  cutter,  and  at  once  started 
it  off,  telling  the  driver,  — 

"  Go  right  on  into  Benton :  that's  where  we're 
coming." 

The  "pair  of  bobs  "  had  been  the  running-gear  of 
a  small  wood-sleigh  built  for  one  horse  to  pull 
around  among  the  woods.  It  was  light  but  strong, 
and  the  box  on  the  rear  half  of  it  was  well  sup- 
plied with  blankets.  When  the  girls  were  in  it,  and 
the  gay  red  spread  from  the  cutter  was  thrown  in 
front  of  them,  the  ripper  put  on  quite  a  holiday 
appearance. 

"Susie,"  said  Pen,   "it's  awful.     We're  going  to 

go." 

•  Susie  made  no  reply ;  but  she  was  conscious  of  a 
great  flutter  of  excitement,  as  she  nestled  back  upon 
her  seat,  and  looked  out  upon  the  great  glittering 
expanse  of  white  that  spread  out  below  and  beyond, 
until  it  seemed  to  break  in  pieces  among  the  streets 
and  houses  of  Benton. 

There  was  one  moment  a  little  before  starting 
when  she  almost  felt  like  backing  out. 

"  Port,"  she  said,  "hadn't  you  better  come  in  here 
with  us  ? " 


142  WINTER  FUN. 

"Yes,  Port,"  said  Vosh,  "get  in.  There's  plenty 
of  room.  We'll  be  all  the  better  for  more  weight." 

Port  was  glad  enough  to  accept,  and  he  knew 
every  other  boy  in  sight  was  envying  him.  There 
had  been  no  end  of  comments  on  "  Vosh  Stebbins's 
ripper." 

It  was  curious,  but  hardly  any  fellow  who  had  a 
sled  of  his  own  had,  at  the  same  time,  any  faith  that 
"them  bobs'll  steer." 

Away  went  Corry  the  next  instant,  on  his  swift 
little  hand-sled,  darting  down  over  the  slippery  crust 
like  a  sort  of  —  well,  like  a  flash  of  boy. 

"  Shall  we  go  through  the  village  ?  "  asked  Susie, 
with  a  half-shuddering  idea  that  when  they  were 
once  a-going  they  would  never  stop. 

"See  about  it,"  said  Vosh.  "We'll  make  the 
longest  trip  ever  was  run  down  this  hill." 

"We're  going,  Susie!"  exclaimed  Pen.  "Hold 
your  breath.  We're  going." 

They  were  starting,  sure  enough,  and  Susie  felt 
that  she  was  turning  a  little  pale ;  but  they  moved 
slowly  at  first,  for  the  slope  was  very  gentle  there. 

"Vosh,  does  it  steer?"  said  Pen. 

That  was  the  very  thing  he  was  experimenting  on ; 
and  the  other  boys  did  not  guess  why  the  new  con- 
trivance made  so  many  curves  and  turns  as  it  did, 
until  he  was  able  to  shout,  — 

"  She  works  !  See  ?  I  can  twist  her  in  any  direc- 
tion." 


GRAND   COASTING.  143 

"  I'm  so  glad  !  "  exclaimed  Susie. 

"  Now,  girls  !  " 

The  ripper  made  a  sudden  dash  forward,  down  a 
steeper  incline,  faster,  faster.  And  there  was  no 
need  to  tell  the  young-lady  passengers  to  hold  their 
breaths  :  that  seemed  the  most  natural  thing  in  all 
the  world  to  do. 

There  never  was  a  more  slippery  crust,  and  the 
ripper  almost  seemed  to  know  it. 

Faster,  faster,  shooting  down  the  steep  slopes,  and 
spinning  across  the  level  reaches ;  and  all  the  while 
there  was  Vosh  Stebbins  bracing  himself  firmly,  as 
he  clung  to  the  long  arms  of  his  rudder. 

It  was  well  he  could  guide  so  perfectly,  for  the 
gaps  in  the  fences  were  none  too  wide,  after  all ;  and 
if  he  and  his  cargo  should  happen  to  miss  one  of 
these,  and  be  dashed  against  a  fence  —  It  was  alto- 
gether too  dreadful  to  think  of,  and  there  was  no 
time  to  think  of  it. 

The  cargo  had  great  confidence  in  their  "engineer 
and  pilot,"  as  Port  had  called  him  before  starting, 
and  they  had  more  after  they  shot  through  the  first 

gap- 

The  wind  whistled  by  their  ears.  The  country  on 
either  side  was  but  a  streak  of  white.  Nobody  could 
guess  how  fast  they  were  going  now. 

"There's  the  village  !  "  gasped  Port. 

"  The  river !  "  whispered  Pen. 


144  WINTER  FUN. 

"  O  Vosh  ! "  began  Susie,  as  they  shot  into  what 
she  saw  was  a  road  lined  with  streaks  of  houses  and 
fences. 

Before  she  could  think  of  another  word,  they  were 
out  on  the  ice  of  the  little  stream,  and  a  skilful  twist 
of  the  rudder  sent  them  down  it  instead  of  across. 
In  a  moment  more  they  were  slipping  smoothly  along 
over  the  wind-swept  surface  of  the  frozen  mill-pond  ; 
and  the  ripper  had  lost  so  much  of  its  impetus,  that 
there  was  no  difficulty  in  bringing  it  to  a  standstill. 

"There!"  said  Vosh,  as  he  held  out  his  hand  to 
help  Susie  alight,  "  that's  the  longest  slide  down  hill 
anybody  ever  took  in  Benton  Valley.  Nobody '11  beat 
that  in  a  hurry." 

"  I  don't  think  they  will,"  she  said  ;  and  Pen  added 
inquiringly,  — 

"We  ain't  scared  a  bit,  Vosh.  We'd  just  as  lief 
have  another." 

That  was  what  the  sorrel  colt  was  coming  down 
the  road  for ;  and  they  were  speedily  on  their  way 
up,  more  envied  than  ever. 

"  Don't  I  wish  aunt  Judith  was  here  now  ! "  ex- 
claimed Pen. 

"  She'd  never  ride  down  hill  in  this  thing,"  said 
Vosh.  "  I'm  glad  she  didn't  see  us  come." 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  work  before  the  sorrel 
colt  that  morning,  and  knot  after  knot  of  curious 
spectators  came  out  of  the  village  "  to  see  how  Vosh 


GRAND   COASTING.  145 

Stcbblns  had  gone  to  work  and  beaten  that  there 
Cobbleville  ripper." 

"  He's  a  cute  one." 

"Regular  built  genius." 

"There  ain't  such  another  feller  in  Cobbleville. 
He  beat  'em  all  at  spellin',  too." 

Vosh  had  won  fame  as  well  as  fun,  and  all  Benton 
was  proud  of  him.  For  all  that,  he  was  tired  enough 
by  dinner-time,  and  was  glad  to  drive  his  passengers 
back  to  the  farmhouse. 

"Aunt  Judith,"  said  Susie,  "it  was  splendid! 
You  never  saw  any  thing  like  it  !  Wonderful !  " 

There  was  a  great  deal  more  to  be  told,  and  it  was 
all  true ;  but  it  was  not  easy  for  aunt  Judith  and 
Mrs.  Farnham  to  believe  it. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  that  thing  didn't 
stop  till  you  were  out  in  the  middle  of  the  mill- 
pond  ? "  asked  aunt  Judith ;  and  four  young  people 
with  one  voice  told  her  it  was  nearer  the  upper  end 
than  the  middle. 

"  Well,"  said  she,  "  I  s'pose  it  must  have  been  so, 
but  there  was  never  any  such  sliding  down  hill  be- 
fore up  this  way.  I'd  like  to  see  it  done  just  once  ; 
that  is,  if  it  didn't  just  happen,  and  can't  be  done 
again,  nohow." 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  DEER-HUNT  ON  THE  CRUST. 

THAT  Saturday  afternoon  was  a  quiet  one  at  the 
farmhouse.  It  really  seemed  as  if  there  had  been 
excitement  enough  for  one  day.  Still,  as  aunt  Judith 
was  in  the  habit  of  remarking,  — 

"  Sometimes  you  can't  always  tell  for  sure  what's 
a-coming." 

Vosh  Stebbins  came  over  after  supper,  and  he  met 
Deacon  Farnham  at  the  gate.  There  was  nothing 
unaccountable  in  that ;  but  the  boys  heard  him  say, 
just  as  he  was  following  the  deacon  in,  — 

"  No,  we  won't  need  any  snow-shoes.  I'll  take 
mine  along." 

"  I'll  take  mine  too,  but  the  crust's  strong  enough 
without  'em." 

"  It'll  be  weak  in  spots  in  the  woods  :  Sile  Hatha- 
way says  it  is." 

Those  were  great  words  for  two  boys  to  hear,  — 

"woods"  and  "Sile  Hathaway." 
146 


THE  DEER-HUNT  ON  THE   CRUST.  147 

"  Port,"  said  Corry,  "  something's  coming." 

"Hark!" 

"Yes,  deacon,  Sile  says  the  deer  break  right 
through,  every  here  and  there.  There's  droves 
of  'em,  and  the  storm's  kind  o'  driven  'em  down  this 
way." 

"  I've  known  it  happen  so  more'n  once." 

"Port,"  whispered  Corry,  as  if  it  were  an  awful 
secret,  "I  know  now:  it's  a  deer-hunt  on  the  crust." 

"Oh-h!"  was  all  the  answer;  and  in  half  a  minute 
more  Vosh  was  on  the  stoop  with  them.  Then  he 
was  in  the  house.  Then  the  whole  affair  burst  out 
like  a  sudden  storm. 

Deacon  Farnham  did  not  say  much  ;  but  there 
was  a  flush  on  his  face,  and  a  light  in  his  eyes,  that 
made  him  look  ten  years  younger.  Mrs.  Farnham 
told  him  so.  But  Pen  interrupted  Vosh  halfway  in 
the  explanation  he  was  giving  Susie,  by  exclaim- 
ing,— 

"  O  mother !  may  I  go  ? " 

"  My  child  "  — 

"  I  never  saw  a  live  deer  killed  on  the  snow.  If 
Susie  goes,  may  I  go  ?  —  Are  you  going  ? " 

Susie  could  hardly  help  saying,  — 

"  I  know  I  can't  go,  but  I'd  like  to." 

"Port!"  exclaimed  Corry,  "let's  get  out  the  guns," 
and  clean  'em.  It  won't  do  to  have  'em  miss  fire." 

"That's  a  good  idea,"  said  his  father.     "Vosh  and 


148  WINTER  FUN. 

I'll  want  to  set  out  early  Monday  morning.  You 
won't  have  time  to  clean  'em  before  you  go  to 
school." 

"  School !     Monday ! " 

"Now,  Joshaway,"  exclaimed  aunt  Judith,  "don't 
tease  the  boy  that  way.  He  won't  miss  just  one 
day's  schoolin',  and  the  crust  ain't  going  to  last  for- 
ever. If  Mrs.  Stebbins  can  spare  Vosh  "  — 

"My  mother?  Why,  she'd  go  herself  if  she 
could." 

"Well,  Corry,"  said  his  father,  "if  you  and  Port'll 
agree  not  to  kill  too  many  deer,  you  may  go." 

Port  was  still  wrestling  with  the  painful  idea  of  a 
gun  missing  fire  after  it  was  actually  pointed  at  large 
game.  There  was  something  dreadful  and  incredi- 
ble about  it ;  and,  when  the  weapons  were  brought 
out,  he  cleaned  away  at  them  almost  painfully. 

Deacon  Farnham  attended  to  his  own  rifle.  Then 
he  took  a  ladle,  and  melted  some  lead  at  the  kitchen 
fire,  and  moulded  a  score  or  so  of  bullets. 

"  Will  that  be  enough  ? "  asked  Port. 

"With  those  in  my  pouch?  I'd  say  they  would. 
If  I  get  a  chance  to  use  half  a  dozen,  I'll  be  satisfied. 
You  boys'd  better  take  plenty  of  buckshot,  though. 
You'll  be  sowing  the  woods  with  'em." 

Susie  did  not  exactly  care  to  handle  those  "  shoot- 
ing-irons," as  Vosh  called  them  ;  but  there  was  a 
strange  fascination  about  them,  after  all.  She  could 


THE  DEER-HUNT  ON  THE   CRUST.  149 

understand  why,  when  they  were  all  laid  clown  on 
the  table,  aunt  Judith  put  on  her  spectacles,  and 
came  and  peered  at  them  all  over,  and  said,  — 

"They  ain't  much  like  the  guns  we  had  when  I 
was  a  girl.  They  used  to  kill  heaps  o'  game,  too." 

"  What  is  the  difference,  aunt  Judith  ? "  asked 
Susie. 

"Well,  'pears  like  these  ain't  much  more'n  half 
as  big  and  heavy.  Double  bar'ls,  too,  and  all  our'n 
was  single.  We  had  flint  locks,  and  didn't  know 
what  percussion-caps  was.  'Pears  to  me,  if  I  was 
goin'  a-huntin',  I'd  ruther  have  one  of  the  old  kind." 

Pen  counted  her  father's  bullets  over  and  over,  till 
she  could  hardly  tell  whether  he  had  two  dozen  or 
four ;  and  Corry  had  to  stop  her  nicking  them  with 
the  scissors. 

"That's  to  show  they're  counted." 

"  Yes ;  but  they  won't  go  straight  with  nicks  in 
'em.  You'll  make  father  miss  his  deer." 

Vosh  went  home  early ;  but  it  was  all  arranged 
before  he  left  the  house,  and  it  was  safe  to  say  that 
nobody  he  left  behind  him  would  go  to  sleep  right 
away. 

It  was  very  hard  indeed,  all  day  Sunday,  for  the 
youngsters  to  keep  good,  and  not  to  say  more  than 
once  an  hour,  — 

"It's  good  and  cold.  The  crust'll  be  all  right 
to-morrow." 


150  WINTER  FUN. 

The  Monday  morning  breakfast  was  eaten  before 
daylight,  and  it  was  hardly  over  before  they  heard 
Vosh  and  Mrs.  Stebbins  at  the  door. 

They  came  right  in,  of  course  ;  and  the  first  words 
were  from  her,  — 

"  Now,  Judith,  you  and  Sarah  ain't  goin',  are  ye  ? 
I'd  go  in  a  minute,  if  I  had  a  gun,  and  was  sure  it 
wouldn't  go  off.  —  Susie,  are  you  and  Pen  goin'  ?  I 
do  hope  there'll  be  deer  enough  for  all  four  on  'em, 
and  they  won't  come  back  and  have  to  say  they  left 
'em  in  the  woods." 

There  was  not  much  time  to  talk,  so  ready  was 
every  thing  and  every  body ;  but  it  did  seem  to  Port 
as  if  Vosh  Stebbins's  hand-sled,  long  as  it  was,  was 
a  small  provision  for  bringing  home  all  the  deer  they 
were  to  kill. 

".The  lunch-basket  and  the  snow-shoes  half  fill  it 
now." 

"  It'll  do,"  said  Vosh.     "  You'll  see." 

"  Why  don't  you  put  on  your  snow-shoes  ?  " 

"  The  ice-pegs  I've  put  in  all  your  boot-heels'll  be 
worth  a  good  deal  more,  if  the  crust's  what  it's  likely 
to  be." 

It  was  not  a  great  while  before  they  all  discovered 
what  good  things  to  prevent  slipping  were  a  few  iron 
peg-heads  sticking  out  of  the  heels  of  your  boots. 
As  for  the  snow-shoes,  nobody  ever  wants  to  wear 
such  clumsy  affairs  unless  it  is  necessary. 


THE  DEER-HUNT  ON  THE   CRUST.  151 

Old  Ponto  had  been  in  a  fever  ever  since  the  boys 
began  to  clean  the  guns  Saturday  evening ;  but 
Vosh  had  secured  for  that  day's  work  the  services  of 
a  very  different  kind  of  dog,  —  one,  moreover,  that 
seemed  to  know  him,  and  to  be  disposed  to  obey  his 
orders,  but  that  paid  small  attention  to  the  advances 
of  any  other  person. 

"  Is  Jack  a  deer-hound  ? "  asked  Port. 

"  Not  quite,"  said  Vosh.  "  He's  only  a  half-breed  ; 
but  he's  run  down  a  good  many  deer,  knows  all 
about  it." 

He  was  a  tall,  strong,  long-legged  animal,  with  lop- 
ears  and  a  sulky  face ;  but  there  was  much  more 
"hunter"  in  his  appearance  than  in  that  of  old 
Ponto.  His  conduct  was  also  more  business-like  ;  for 
it  was  not  until  Ponto  had  slid  all  the  way  to  the 
bottom  of  several  deep  hollows,  that  he  learned  the 
wisdom  of  plodding  along  with  the  rest,  instead  of 
searching  the  woods  for  rabbits. 

"  Rabbits ! "  The  very  mention  of  those  little 
animals  made  the  boys  look  at  each  other  as  if 
asking,  — 

"Did  you  ever  hunt  any  thing  as  small  as  a 
rabbit  ? " 

The  snow  in  the  woods  was  deep,  but  it  was  not 
drifted  much  ;  and  the  crust  was  hard,  except  close  to 
the  trunks  of  the  trees,  and  under  the  heavier  pines 
and  hemlocks.  Walking  was  easy,  and  they  pushed 
right  on  through  the  forest. 


152  WINTER  FUN. 

"  How'll  we  ever  find  our  way  back  again  ? "  asked 
Port. 

"  Follow  our  own  tracks,"  said  Corry.  "  Besides, 
father  and  Vosh'd  never  dream  of  getting  lost  around 
here.  Guess  I  wouldn't,  either." 

Port  looked  back  at  the  trail  they  had  made.  He 
thought  he  could  follow  that.  Still  he  would  have 
been  more  sure  of  himself  in  the  streets  of  a  city, 
with  names  and  numbers  on  all  the  lamp-posts  at  the 
corners. 

"  Keep  your  tempers,  boys.  It's  hunter's  luck,  you 
know.  We  may  not  get  a  single  shot." 

The  words  were  hardly  out  of  the  deacon's  mouth, 
before  Jack  sprang  suddenly  forward,  anxiously  fol- 
lowed by  Ponto. 

"  He's  scented  !  "  exclaimed  Vosh.  "  There  isn't 
much  wind  ;  but  it's  blowing  this  way,  what  there  is." 

"  Hark  !     Hear  him  ? " 

That  was  music.  It  seemed  as  if  a  thrill  went 
over  every  nerve  among  them,  at  the  cry  of  the 
excited  hound,  as  he  fully  caught  the  scent,  and 
"opened  on  it." 

"There'll  be  a  run  now,  Vosh." 

"  Not  up  the  mountain." 

"  No,  we  won't  follow  yet.  If  they  turn  him,  he'll 
come  this  way." 

"  Or  down  the  hollow." 

"  No  lake  for  him  now." 


THE  DEER-HUNT  ON  THE   CRUST.  153 

"  He  can  run  on  this  crust." 

"  Yes,  but  he  can't  pick  his  own  course  with  the 
dogs  behind  him." 

Comments  followed  thick  and  fast,  as  the  eager 
sportsmen  pushed  onward.  It  seemed  to  the  boys  a 
good  time  to  do  some  running,  if  they  could  but 
know  in  what  direction  to  go  ;  but  Vosh  and  the  dea- 
con were  carefully  studying  what  they  called  "the 
lay  of  the  land." 

Ahead  of  them,  they  knew,  was  a  bold,  steep 
mountain,  such  as  no  deer  would  climb.  Half  a  mile 
to  the  right  was  the  road  to  Mink  Lake ;  and  to  the 
left  and  behind  them  the  woods  were  open,  with  a 
fair  amount  of  "running-room." 

"  If  they  turn  him,"  said  Vosh,  "  he'll  have  to  pass 
in  sight.  You  may  get  a  shot,  deacon.  It'll  be  a 
long  one,  but  I'd  be  ready  if  I  was  you." 

It  turned  out  that  way  in  less  than  five  minutes ; 
for  a  fine  doe  came  springing  across  the  snow,  well 
ahead  of  .the  dogs,  and  out  of  "shot-gun  range." 

"  Try  her,  deacon  !  There,  she's  broken  through  ! 
Try  her!" 

The  deacon's  rifle  was  already  at  his  shoulder,  and, 
just  as  the  beautiful  animal  scrambled  out  upon  the 
crust,  the  sharp  "  crack  "  rang  through  the  forest. 

"  Struck  !  "  shouted  Vosh  as  the  doe  gave  a  great 
spring ;  but  she  dashed  right  onward,  followed  by 
the  dogs. 


154  WINTER  FUN. 

"Now,  boys,  you  run  while  I  load." 

Port  and  Corry  hardly  needed  orders ;  and  the  main 
wonder  was,  that  they  did  not  break  their  necks  in 
the  desperate  burst  they  made  after  that  wounded 
deer.  Even  Jack  could  not  do  his  best  running  over 
that  icy  crust,  except  when  travelling  in  a  straight 
line.  He  could  not  turn  quickly  without  slipping ; 
and  the  doe  must  have  known  it,  to  judge  by  the 
manner  in  which  she  dodged  among  the  trees. 

"  Here  she  comes,  right  past  us  ! " 

Bang !  went  one  barrel  of  Vosh  Stebbins's  gun. 

"Missed,  I  declare  !  Must  be  I've  got  the  buck- 
ague." 

Bang !  from  Corry,  and  he  seemed  to  have  done  no 
better ;  but  just  then  the  deer  broke  through  at  the 
foot  of  a  hemlock,  and  Porter  Hudson  had  what  was 
almost  as  sure  as  a  "sitting  shot." 

He  made  the  best  of  it  by  letting  drive  with  right 
and  left.  It  was  a  long  range,  and  the  shot  scattered, 
of  course ;  but  they  afterwards  found  the  marks  of 
nine  of  them  in  the  skin  of  that  doe. 

In  twenty  seconds  Jack  had  her  by  the  throat  ;  and 
Ponto  tried  to  imitate  hirri,  but  concluded  that  he 
had  better  lie  down  and  pant  a  little. 

Vosh  was  on  hand  now,  to  take  off  Jack,  and  to 
finish  the  work  with  his  long,  sharp  hunting-knife. 
He  knew  exactly  what  to  do  ;  and,  when  Deacon 
Farnham  came  up,  they  hung  their  game  to  the 
lower  limb  of  a  tree. 


THE  DEER-HUNT  ON  THE   CRUST.  155 

"No  wolves  around,"  said  Vosh  ;  "but  it'll  be  safe 
from  any  kind  of  varmint." 

"  What  does  he  mean,  Corry  ? " 

"  Why,  the  wolves  are  pretty  well  killed  off ;  but 
there  are  wildcats,  and  some  other  things,  I  hardly 
know  what.  All  the  bears  are  treed.  We'll  stop  for 
our  game  on  our  way  home." 

They  were  now  barely  two  miles  from  the  farm- 
house, and  they  went  fully  another  before  they  saw 
any  more  game.  Off,  then,  went  the  dogs  ;  and  the 
boys  were  taken  a  little  by  surprise  when  the  dea- 
con said, — 

"  Vosh,  you  and  the  boys  sit  right  down  here.  — 
No,  Corry,  you  and  Port  walk  off  to  the  right  there, 
about  thirty  or  forty  rods.  I'll  strike  to  the  left  as 
far  as  the  edge  of  the  big  ravine.  If  they've  really 
started  a  deer,  he  may  come  along  there." 

Away  he  went,  and  away  went  the  boys.  Porter 
Hudson  had  hardly  been  able  to  speak  ever  since  he 
fired  at  the  doe.  It  was  true  that  his  uncle  had  hit 
it  first ;  but  then,  he  had  killed  it,  and  he  was  think- 
ing what  a  thing  that  would  be  to  tell  his  city  friends 
after  he  should  get  home.  He  did  not  know  a  boy 
among  them  who  had  ever  fired  a  gun  at  a  deer. 
Now  he  himself  was  to  be  that  very  boy,  and  it  was 
almost  too  much.  He  was  beginning  to  half  dream 
about  it,  when  he  heard  the  warning  cry  of  Jack, 
coming  nearer  and  nearer,  ahead  of  him. 


156  WINTER  FUN. 

Almost  at  the  same  moment  he  heard  the  crack  of 
his  uncle's  rifle.  He  saw  Corry  spring  to  his  feet, 
and  stand  still,  while  Vosh  Stebbins  darted  away  to 
the  left,  as  if  he  thought  he  might  be  needed  there. 

"  What  can  it  be  ?  I  don't  see  a  single  thing. 
No  —  yes  —  there  he  goes,  straight  for  Corry  !  Why 
doesn't  Vosh  stop  ? " 

The  deer  in  sight  was  a  fine  buck,  with  antlers 
which  afterward  proved  him  to  be  three  years  old  ; 
and  it  was  easier  for  Corry  to  hit  him  "  on  the  run  " 
than  to  hit  a  white  rabbit.  He  fired  both  barrels 
too,  and  he  shouted  to  Port ;  but  there  was  no  more 
glory  for  the  city  boy  this  time.  Corry  had  aimed 
too  well,  and  the  buck  had  been  too  near ;  and  it 
was  hardly  necessary  for  the  dogs  to  pull  down  their 
game. 

"  Corry,  hear  that  ?  It's  Vosh's  gun.  What's  the 
matter  ?  " 

"There  goes  his  second  barrel.  Run  :  your  gun's 
loaded." 

It  was  all  in  a  minute ;  and  Port  darted  away 
with  a  strong  impression  that  something  strange  had 
happened. 

Corry  must  have  thought  so  too,  for  he  loaded  his 
gun  like  lightning. 

Something  strange  had  indeed  happened. 

Deacon  Farnham  had  walked  on  rapidly  towards 
the  deep  ravine,  after  leaving  the  boys.  lie  had 


THE  DEER-HUNT  ON  THE   CRUST.  157 

known  that  forest  ever  since  he  was  a  boy,  and  had 
killed  more  than  one  deer  in  that  vicinity.  He  did 
not  go  any  great  distance,  keeping  his  eyes  sharply 
about  him,  when  he  suddenly  stopped  short,  and 
raised  his  rifle. 

It  looked  as  if  he  were  aiming  at  a  clump  of 
sumach-bushes  ;  and  Port,  or  even  Corry,  would  prob- 
ably have  said  they  saw  nothing  there.  Vosh,  per- 
haps, or  any  hunter  of  more  experience,  would  have 
said,  — 

"See  his  antlers,  just  above  the  thick  bush  ?  See 
'em  move  ?  He's  gazing  now.  He'll  be  off  in  a 
jiffy." 

If  left  alone,  but  not  so  fast  after  the  deacon  had 
fired ;  for,  after  he  had  seen  those  antlers,  he  could 
guess  pretty  well  at  the  body  below  them.  He 
could  not  correctly  guess  its  exact  position,  however ; 
and  so,  instead  of  hitting  the  deer  in  the  chest  or 
side,  the  bullet  grazed  his  shoulder,  and  struck  his 
right  hip.  There  was  no  more  "run"  after  that  in 
that  magnificent  buck,  but  there  was  plenty  of  fight. 
There  was  danger,  too,  in  his  sharp  and  branching 
horns,  as  Deacon  Farnham  discovered  when  he  so 
rashly  plunged  in  among  those  bushes. 

Danger  from  a  deer  ! 

Exactly.  Danger  of  being  gored  by  those  natural 
weapons  of  his. 

Instead  of   being  able  to   use   his   hunting-knife, 


158  ll'f.YTEK  FUN. 

the  deacon  found  himself  dodging  actively  behind 
trees,  and  fending  off  with  his  empty  rifle  the  furious 
charges  of  his  desperate  assailant,  until  Vosh  came 
to  his  assistance. 

It  was  a  very  good  thing  that  Vosh  came  when  he 
did,  and  that  his  gun  was  loaded.  Two  charges  of 
buckshot  were  fired  at  very  short  range ;  and  the 
deacon  was  safe,  but  he  was  pretty  nearly  out  of 
breath. 

"  You  were  just  in  time,  Vosh." 

"  Glad  I  was.  Isn't  he  a  whopper?  Sile  Hatha- 
way was  right.  The  deer  haven't  run  as  well,  down 
this  way,  since  I  remember." 

Port  came  running  up  just  then  ;  and  he  was  all 
eyes  and  ears,  although  his  help  was  not  needed. 

"  He's  a  grand  one  !     We've  got  another." 

"  Have  you  ? "  panted  his  uncle.  "  Vosh,  you  go 
and  'tend  to  it.  I'll  'tend  to  this  one  soon  as  I  get 
my  breath.  Guess  we've  got  all  the  game  we  want 
for  one  day." 

"  Why,  uncle,  it  isn't  much  after  noon  :  we  might 
kill  some  more." 

"  Well,  we  might,  but  it'll  be  late  enough  when 
we  get  home.  We've  work  before  us,  Port.  Time 
we  had  some  lunch,  anyway." 

They  were  all  ready  enough  for  that  ;  but  the 
boys  began  to  discover,  soon  afterwards  that  deer- 
hunting  was  not  all  play.  It  was  easy  enough  to 


THE  DEER-HUNT  ON  THE   CRUST.  159 

cut  down  branches  of  trees,  and  lay  them  on  the 
sled,  and  fasten  them  together.  Then  it  was  not  a 
terrible  lift  for  all  four  of  them  to  raise  a  dead 
deer,  and  lay  him  on  the  branches. 

The  tug  of  war  came  afterwards,  as  they  hauled 
that  sled  homeward  over  the  crust.  Several  times 
it  broke  through  ;  and  then  there  was  no  end  of 
floundering  in  the  snow,  and  tugging  and  lifting, 
before  they  again  got  it  a-going.  Then  once  it  got 
away  from  them,  and  slid  away  down  a  deep,  steep 
hollow,  landing  its  cargo  all  in  a  heap  at  the  bottom. 
There  was  no  use  for  the  snow-shoes,  but  they  had 
to  be  fished  for  in  the  snow  when  the  sled  broke 
through. 

It  was  a  long  pull,  but  they  all  worked  at  it  until 
at  last  they  hauled  the  sled  out  into  the  half-made 
road  to  Mink  Lake.  After  that,  they  got  on  better ; 
but  they  were  a  weary  lot  of  hunters  when  they 
reached  the  farmhouse,  and  the  day  was  about  gone. 

There  were  eager  faces  at  the  windows,  that  of 
Mrs.  Stebbins  among  them.  There  were  shrill  shouts 
from  Pen  on  the  front  stoop.  Then  there  was  an 
excited  little  gathering  at  the  kitchen-door,  when  the 
sled  was  drawn  in  front  of  it,  and  the  deacon  ex- 
claimed, — 

"  There  !     Look  at  'em  !  " 

"Three  of  'em!"  exclaimed  aunt  Judith.  "All 
real  good  ones,  too.  Now,  when  I  was  a  girl,  I've 


160  WINTER  FUN. 

known  the  men  folks  go  out  and  bring  in  six  of  a 
morning,  and  they  didn't  have  to  go  more'n  a  mile 
from  the  house." 

Mrs.  Farnham  was  equally  well  satisfied,  and  Pen 
clapped  her  little  hands  in  a  gale  of  excitement. 

"  Poor  things  !  "  said  Susie. 

She  could  hardly  help  feeling  a  little  sorry  for 
those  three  beautiful  creatures  on  the  sled  ;  but  Mrs. 
Stcbbins  curtly  remarked,  — 

"  Nonsense,  my  dear  :  they  was  made  to  be  killed 
and  eaten,  —  Deacon,  did  you  and  the  boys  kill  any 
on  'em?" 

She  had  a  vague  idea  that  the  glory  of  that  hunt 
must  somehow  have  been  won  by  "  my  Vosh  ; "  but 
Susie  had  just  time  to  say,  — 

"  They  look  so  innocent,  so  helpless ! "  when  her 
uncle  exclaimed,  — 

"  Innocent !  Helpless  !  That  big  buck  was  with- 
in an  inch  of  making  an  end  of  me  when  Vosh  came 
up  and  shot  him.  —  He's  your  game,  Mrs.  Stebbins." 

He  forgot  to  mention  that  the  fight  with  the  buck 
was  all  his  own  fault,  for  he  began  it ;  but  the  story 
helped  Susie  out  of  her  bit  of  soft-heartedness,  and 
it  made  Mrs.  Stebbins  hold  her  head  up  amazingly. 

"  O  father !  "  said  Pen.  "  Did  he  hurt  you  ?  He's 
a  dreadful  deer." 

"  I  think,  Pen,"  said  her  father,  "  I'll  let  you  eat 
some  of  him  for  supper." 


THE  DEER-HUNT  ON  THE   CRUST.  l6l 

There  was  venison-steak  in  abundance  at  table, 
and  Corry  was  nearly  justified  in  declaring,  — 

"  It's  good  fun  to  hunt  deer,  but  I'd  rather  eat  'em 
than  drag  'em  home." 


CHAPTER   XI. 

ON   THE    ICE. 

BOTH  Vosh  Stebbins  and  Corry  Farnham  had  a 
great  deal  to  do  in  their  hours  before  and  after 
school.  The  former,  particularly,  had  chores  upon 
his  hands  which  would  have  been  a  great  burden 
to  a  less  thoroughly  efficient  and  industrious  young 
fellow.  He  had  his  sorrel  colt,  instead  of  the  two 
teams  and  the  oxen  of  the  other  farm,  and  he 
also  had  cows  and  pigs.  As  to  these  and  the  poul- 
try, Mrs.  Stebbins  relieved  him  of  much,  for  she  said 
of  herself,  — 

"  I'm  as  spry  as  a  gal,  and  I  don't  show  no  signs 
of  failin'.  I  don't  intend  to  hev  that  boy  choked 
off  from  havin'  his  sheer  of  all  the  goin's-on  he  can 
reach  out  to." 

She  was  a  notable  housekeeper  and  manager,  and 
was  free  to  say  so.  As  for  Corry,  not  a  little  of  the 
work  put  upon  him  was  what  his  father  wisely  called 
"farm-schooling;"  but  he  had  it  to  do,  just  the 
same. 

162 


ON  THE  ICE.  163 

One  consequence  was,  that  the  splendid  skating 
prepared  by  the  thaw  and  rain  and  freeze  on  the 
mill-pond  had  not  received  the  attention  it  so  well 
deserved.  Some  of  the  village  boys  had  done  what 
they  could  for  it ;  and  it  lay  there  waiting  for  the 
rest,  just  as  good  as  ever.  Porter  Hudson  had  looked 
at  it  longingly  more  than  once ;  and  it  was  only  the 
day  after  the  grand  deer-hunt  on  the  crust  that  he 
said  to  Susie,  — 

"  Now,  don't  you  say  a  word  about  it  to  any  one. 
Put  your  skates  under  your  shawl,  and  walk  on  down 
to  the  village  with  me.  I'll  wrap  up  mine  in  a 
bundle." 

"  What  if  anybody  should  see  us  ?  Who  cares  ? 
I  don't." 

"  Why,  Susie,  don't  you  see  ?  We'll  be  out  with 
all  the  rest  before  long.  We  haven't  been  on  our 
skates  since  we  were  at  the  rink  last  winter.  I 
don't  feel  more'n  half  sure  I  could  stand  up  on 
mine." 

"  No,  nor  I :  that's  a  fact.  We  must  have  some 
practice  first,  or  they'll  think  we're  just  learning." 

They  felt  very  wise  about  it,  but  they  had  no 
notion  whatever  that  precisely  such  an  idea  had 
occurred  to  Vosh  Stebbins.  His  mother  had  not 
minded  his  getting  home  pretty  late  on  the  two  or 
three  evenings  when  she  knew  he  was  educating  his 
feet  and  ankles  before  showing  Susie  Hudson  and 


1 64  WINTER  FUN. 

her  brother  what  a  country  boy  could  do  on  good 
ice. 

"Your  father,"  she  said  to  him,  "was  the  best 
skater  in  the  valley,  and  you  ort  to  be.  Get  your 
skates  filed,  Lavawjer."  And  she  told  him  a  great 
deal  about  ice  and  skating  before  she  felt  satisfied 
that  he  knew  what  might  some  clay  be  required  of 
him  as  being  her  son  and  the  smartest  boy  in  Ben- 
ton  Valley. 

So  it  came  to  pass,  the  day  after  the  hunt,  while 
Penelope  and  her  brother  and  Vosh  and  all  the  other 
boys  and  girls  were  safely  shut  up  in  the  village 
schoolhouse,  the  boy  and  girl  from  the  city  were  out 
upon  the  ice.  They  even  took  pains  to  keep  at  the 
upper  end  of  the  pond  and  on  the  river  above  it,  so 
that  not  one  critical  pair  of  eyes  should  discover 
what  they  were  about.  It  was  a  complete  success, 
as  far  as  secrecy  was  concerned,  and  nearly  so  in 
other  respects.  The  first  trial  could  not  be  too  long, 
but  it  compelled  Port  to  remark  when  they  set  out 
for  home,  — 

"  How  stiff  and  lame  I  am  ! " 

"Port,"  replied  Susie,    "  I  can't  but  just  walk." 

"  We  must  try  it  again  right  off,"  said  Port,  "  or 
it  won't  do.  If  we  can  manage  it  to  get  down  there 
two  or  three  times  more  "  — 

"  Without  any  one  seeing  us  "  — 

"  We  can  skate  as  well  as  we  ever  could :  shouldn't 
wonder  if  it  surprised  'em." 


ON  THE  ICE.  165 

Vosh  had  had  a  sort  of  surprise  in  his  own  mind, 
and  he  had  worked  it  up  among  the  other  boys.  It 
came  out  only  a  few  evenings  later,  when  aunt 
Judith  was  compelled  to  exclaim  at  the  supper- 
table,  — 

"  Skating-party  on  the  ice  !  Who  ever  heard  tell 
of  such  a  thing  !  After  dark  too  !  " 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Corry  gravely:  "the  skating's 
to  be  done  on  the  ice,  —  all  over  it.  There'll  be  the 
biggest  bonfires  you  ever  saw,  and  there'll  be  good 
moonlight  too." 

"  Sakes  alive  !  —  Susie,  would  you  like  to  go  and 
look  on  for  a  while  ? " 

"  Indeed  I  would !  Now,  aunt  Judith,  you  and 
aunt  Sarah  both  go,  and  take  Pen  and  me." 

There  was  a  little  discussion  of  the  matter,  of 
course ;  but  the  deacon  settled  it. 

"  I  used  to  think  there  wasn't  any  thing  much 
better'n  a  skate  by  moonlight.  It  won't  pay  to 
hitch  up  a  team,  but  I'll  walk  over  with  you.  Let's 
all  go." 

The  first  whisper  Port  gave  to  Susie  after  supper 
was,  — 

"  Hide  your  skates.  I'll  let  'em  see  mine  :  they 
don't  know  I  can  stand  on  'em." 

Corry  was  right  about  the  moon,  and  the  evening 
was  wonderfully  clear  and  bright. 

"  Plenty  of   light  to  skate  by,"  said  the  deacon 


1 66  M'lXTER  FUN. 

when  they  started  ;  but  even  he  had  to  admit  that 
the  village  boys  had  done  themselves  credit,  when 
he  reached  the  pond,  and  saw  the  bonfires. 

There  must  have  been  nearly  a  dozen  of  them 
strung  along  from  the  dam  to  the  mouth  of  the  little 
river  on  both  shores  ;  and  one  big  one  flared  up  right 
in  the  middle  of  the  pond. 

"  It'll  melt  through,"  said  Pen. 

"Guess  not,"  replied  her  brother.  "The  ice  is 
awful  thick." 

There  were  a  good  many  merry  skaters  already  at 
work  ;  and  there  were  groups  of  spectators  here  and 
there,  for  the  fires  made  the  scene  well  worth  coming 
to  look  at. 

"Susie,"  said  Vosh,  "how  I  do  wish  you  knew 
how  to  skate  !" 

"Let  me  see  how  you  can  do  it.  I'll  look  on  a 
little  while." 

She  felt  almost  conscience-smitten  about  her  in- 
tended fun  ;  but  she  kept  her  secret  until  all  the 
boys  had  strapped  on  their  skates,  and  she  heard 
Vosh  say  to  Port,  — 

"Can  you  get  up  alone  ?     Shall  I  help  you  ? " 

"No,  I  guess  not.  Can  you  cut  a  figure  8,  this 
way  ?  Come  on,  Vosh,  catch  me  if  you  can  !  " 

"  Corry  !  "  exclaimed  Pen,  "  Port  can  skate.  See 
him  go  !  " 

"I  declare!"  remarked  the  deacon,  "so  he  can." 


ON  THE  ICE.  167 

"So  can  Vosh,"  said  Mrs.  Stebbins.  "There  ain't 
any  city  boy  going  to  beat  him  right  away." 

Vosh's  effort  to  find  out  if  that  were  true  had 
already  carried  him  so  far  away,  that,  the  moment 
Corry  followed  him,  Susie  felt  safe  to  say,  — 

"  Now,  uncle  Joshua,  if  you  will  help  me  buckle 
my  skates  "  — 

She  was  in  such  a  fever  to  get  them  on,  that  she 
hardly  heard  the  storm  of  remarks  from  Mrs.  Steb- 
bins and  aunt  Judith ;  but  the  deacon  seemed  to 
take  an  understanding  interest  in  the  matter,  and  he 
was  right  down  on  his  knees  on  the  ice,  hurrying  to 
fasten  those  skates  for  her. 

"  Can  you  really  skate,  Susie  ? " 

"  I'll  show  you  in  a  minute.  Please  do  hurry, 
before  either  of  them  suspect  any  thing." 

"  O  Susie ! "  said  Pen  mournfully,  "  I  do  wish  I 
could." 

"You  must  learn  some  day." 

"  Susie  !  "  exclaimed  aunt  Judith,  "  wait  for  some- 
body to  go  with  ye :  you  might  tumble  down." 

"  Start,  now,  Susie,"  said  her  uncle.  "  Off  with 
you!" 

She  was  really  a  very  graceful  skater  ;  and  her 
aunts  looked  on  with  admiration,  as  well  as  a  vast 
deal  of  astonishment,  while  she  made  a  few  whirls 
near  by,  to  make  sure  her  skates  were  on  rightly. 
Then  away  she  glided  over  the  ice ;  and  the  first 


1 68  ll'/XTX/f   FUN. 

thing  Vosh  Stebbins  knew  of  it  was  when  the  form 
of  a  young  lady  fluttered  swiftly  past  him,  between 
him  and  the  glare  of  the  great  central  bonfire.  Her 
face  was  turned  the  other  way,  and  his  first  exclama- 
tion was,  — 

"  What  a  splendid  skater !     Who  can  she  be  ?  " 

"I  know,"  said  Port  Hudson,  close  at  hand,  and 
waiting  for  his  share  of  the  joke.  "  She's  a  girl  from 
the  city,  and  she's  spending  the  winter  with  some 
relatives  of  mine.  Come  on  :  I'm  going  after  her. 
Think  you  can  keep  up?  Come  on,  Vosh." 

Away  went  Porter,  just  as  his  friend  felt  a  great 
hot  flush  come  into  his  face,  and  dashed  after  them, 
exclaiming,  — 

"  If  I  ain't  stupid  !  Why,  it's  Susie  Hudson  her- 
self!" 

He  felt  as  if  his  honor  were  at  stake,  and  he  had 
never  skated  so  in  all  his  life  before.  The  fires  on 
the  bank  seemed  to  flit  by  him  as  he  followed  that 
solitary  girl-skater  around  the  glittering  icy  reaches 
of  the  mill-pond.  It  looked  so  like  a  race,  that  almost 
everybody  else  paused  to  watch,  and  some  even 
cheered.  Deacon  Farnham  himself  shouted,  — 

"  Hurrah  for  Susie ! "  and  Pen  danced  up  and 
down. 

"  It's  jest  wonderful,"  said  aunt  Judith,  "  to  see 
her  go  off  that  way  the  very  first  time." 

"  Guess   it   isn't   quite    the   first   skalin'    bhe   ever 


ON  THE   ICE.  169 

did,"  said  Mrs.  Stebbins ;  "but  Vosh'll  ketch  her, 
now,  you  see'f  he  don't  " 

Susie  had  somehow  got  it  into  her  head  that  she 
did  not  mean  to  be  caught,  and  her  practice  was  all 
in  her  favor ;  but  just  as  she  reached  the  head  of  the 
pond,  and  made  a  quick  turn  into  the  winding  chan- 
nel of  the  river,  Vosh  came  swinging  along  at  her 
side,  and  for  a  little  distance  he  did  not  speak  a  word 
to  her. 

"  Vosh,"  she  said,  after  trying  very  hard  to  think 
of  something  else  to  say,  "  I  wish  you'd  teach  me  to 
skate." 

A  ringing  laugh  was  all  his  answer  for  a  moment, 
and  then  he  remarked  innocently,  — 

"  The  ice  is  smoother  up  this  way,  but  I  mustn't 
let  you  get  too  far  from  the  folks.  Tire  you  all  out 
skating  back  again." 

On  they  went,  while  all  the  people  they  had  left 
behind  them,  except  their  own,  were  inquiring  of 
each  other  who  the  young  lady  could  be  that  had  so 
astonished  them. 

Oddly  enough,  the  Benton  girls  had  omitted  skat- 
ing from  their  list  of  accomplishments,  by  a  kind  of 
common  consent  ;  and  Susie's  bit  of  fun  had  a  sur- 
prise in  it  for  others  besides  Vosh  and  her  aunts. 
It  was  quite  likely  she  would  have  imitators  there- 
after, but  she  had  made  an  unexpected  sensation 
that  evening. 


I/O  WINTER  FUN. 

Even  Port  had  surprised  Corry  and  the  Benton 
boys,  although  some  of  them  were  every  way  his 
equals  on  the  ice. 

"  Now,  Vosh,"  remarked  Susie  at  the  end  of  nearly 
a  mile  of  that  crooked  ice-path,  "  we'd  better  go  back. 
Are  you  tired  ? " 

"Tired!  I  could  skate  all  night.  We'd  better 
go,  though,  or  aunt  Judith'll  borrow  a  pair,  and 
come  skating  along  after  us." 

Down  the  river  they  went  again,  and  across  the 
pond  ;  and  by  that  time  a  score  of  busy  tongues  were 
circulating  the  discovery. 

"  It's  that  there  city  cousin  of  the  Farnhams. 
She  learned  how  to  skate  when  she  was  travellin'  in 
Russia." 

Part  of  that  news  may  have  had  some  help  from 
Corry ;  but  Susie's  aunts  were  glad  to  get  her  back 
again,  and  Mrs.  Stebbins  said  to  her,  — 

"You  never  did  look  prettier  nor  nicer.  I  do  jest 
like  to  see  any  gal  nowadays  that  ain't  afraid  of  her 
shadcler." 

"  Guess  Susie  isn't  much  afraid  of  any  thing,"  said 
Pen  ;  "  but  I'm  awful  glad  there  wasn't  any  holes  in 
the  ice." 

"No air-holes  are  needed  on  a  mill-pond,"  said  Mr. 
Farnham  ;  "but,  if  I'm  not  mistaken,  there'll  be  some 
lame  young  people  to-morrow.  Nobody  feels  very 
well  the  day  after  such'a  race  as  that." 


ON  THE  ICE.  171 

He  was  not  altogether  wrong.  Susie  felt  pretty 
well  the  next  day,  but  in  spite  of  her  practising 
beforehand,  her  race  with  Vosh  Stebbins  had  been  a 
severe  one  ;  and,  to  tell  the  full  truth,  he  himself  was 
willing  to  get  over  the  effects  of  it  before  volunteer- 
ing to  try  another. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

A   VERY   EXCITING   WINTER   EVENING. 

THE  people  of  Benton  valley  and  village  had  not 
been  ignorant  of  the  fact  that  Deacon  Joshua  Farn- 
ham's  family  had  some  dty  cousins  spending  the 
winter  with  them.  Some  had  said  at  first  that  they 
were  there  for  their  health,  and  some  that  they  were 
orphans  and  had  come  to  stay ;  but  the  facts  of  the 
case  got  around  after  a  while. 

Susie  and  Port  had  made  some  acquaintances  at 
the  donation,  and  some  at  the  spelling-match,  and 
some  at  the  meeting-house ;  but  people  had  not 
exactly  made  up  their  minds  what  to  do  about  them. 
Now  came  the  altogether  sensational  affair  of  the 
moonlight  skating-race  on  the  mill-pond,  and  some- 
thing had  got  to  be  done. 

Away  over  on  the  other  side  of  the  valley,  and 
just  in  the  outer  edge  of  the  village,  stood  a  great 
white,  square  box  of  a  house,  larger  than  any  other 

house  within  ten  miles  of  it.     Squire  King  was  by 
172 


A    VERY  EXCITING    WINTER  EVENING.       1/3 

all  odds  the  richest  man  in  that  circumference,  and  he 
had  built  his  house  large  accordingly.  Mrs.  King  was 
not  exactly  proud,  although  she  knew  she  was  rich, 
and  that  she  had  been  to  Europe  once,  and  to  a  num- 
ber of  notable  places  in  the  United  States.  Neither 
she,  nor  any  other  woman  in  or  about  Benton,  was 
in  a  position  to  look  down  upon  the  Farnhams.  She 
liked  them,  as  did  everybody  else,  and  was  a  little  in 
awe  of  aunt  Judith  ;  but  she  had  not  felt  any  social 
duty  in  the  matter  of  their  visitors  until  she  was  told 
of  the  skating.  It  had  really  been  pretty  well  done 
on  the  ice,  but  it  was  tenfold  more  wonderful  when 
it  was  described  in  Mrs.  King's  dining-room.  Even 
Squire  King  himself  dropped  his  newspaper,  and 
listened,  and  asked,  "What's  the  world  coming  to?" 
And  Mrs.  King's  three  lady  neighbors  who  were 
telling  her  about  it  were  unable  to  answer  him. 
They  all  said,  however,  that  it  was  time  some  special 
attention  should  be  paid,  and  that  such  a  young  lady 
must  be  worth  getting  acquainted  with.  So  had 
said  every  girl  in  the  valley  who  felt  old  enough  to 
skate ;  and  quite  a  number  of  well-grown  boys  de- 
cided to  learn  new  "  curly  q's  "  on  the  ice.  Every  boy 
of  them  had  a  bump  on  the  back  of  his  head  within 
three  days,  and  the  pond  was  less  like  a  looking- 
glass  than  formerly ;  but  Mrs.  Squire  King  had  made 
up  her  own  mind  in  less  time  than  that,  without  any 
headache.  There  should  be  a  young  people's  party 


1/4  U'lA'TER  FUN. 

at  her  house  ;  and  her  husband  agreed  with  her,  that 
the  nearer  they  could  fill  it  up,  and  leave  standing- 
room,  the  better. 

"  Do  it  right  away,  Addie,"  said  he.  "  Do  it  right 
up  to  the  handle.  Kind  of  startle  folks.  Nobody's 
a-looking  for  any  such  thing  to  come." 

It  was  to  be  all  sorts  of  a  surprise ;  and  the  whole 
valley  went  about  its  affairs,  just  the  same  as  if  Mrs. 
Squire  King  were  not  manufacturing  so  much  frosted 
cake,  and  boiling  tongues  and  hams  for  sandwiches. 
Some  other  tongues  would  have  been  hot  enough  if 
they  had  known  a  word  about  it  before  the  invita- 
tions were  written  and  sent  out. 

Up  at  Deacon  Farnham's  it  was  a  little  quieter 
than  it  was  anywhere  else  the  day  after  the  skating, 
until  he  himself  came  in  from  the  village  at  noon. 
He  had  come  for  his  dinner,  but  there  was  a  look  in 
his  face  as  if  he  had  brought  something.  Pen  had 
seen  it  there  before  ;  and  she  asked  him  what  it  was 
to  be,  precisely  as  if  he  had  spoken  about  it. 

"What  have  I  got?  How  do  you  know  I've  got 
any  thing?" 

"  Is  it  something  for  me  ? " 

"  No,  not  this  time,  Pen ;  but  I've  something  for 
Port  and  Susie." 

"  Letters,  uncle ! "  exclaimed  Susie  ;  and  Mrs. 
Farnham  added,  — 

"  I  do  hope  so.  She's  been  fairly  mourning  for 
some,  day  after  day." 


A    VERY  EXCITING    WINTER  EVENING.       1/5 

"  It's  all  a  mistake  or  neglect  of  somebody  in  your 
father's  office  in  the  city,  Susie.  There's  three  for 
you,  and  one  is  a  fat  one.  Where's  Port  ?  There's  as 
many  for  him." 

Port  was  out  at  the  barn  ;  but  Pen  found  him,  and 
brought  him  in,  as  if  his  life  depended  upon  getting 
those  letters  at  once. 

"  Mother !  Father  !  "  said  Susie,  with  a  face  that 
changed  fast  from  red  to  pale,  and  back  again,  as  she 
dropped  into  aunt  Judith's  big  rocking-chair,  and  be- 
gan to  read  those  letters. 

"  Is  it  all  good  news  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Farnham  in  a 
minute  or  so. 

"All  perfect,  aunt  Sarah.  Mother  seems  to  be 
doing  very  well." 

She  read  on  and  on  ;  and  Port  had  now  come  in, 
and  was  doing  the  same ;  and  it  was  as  if  with  one 
voice  they  suddenly  exclaimed,  — 

"  How  strange  it  seems  ! " 

"What  is  so  strange?"  asked  aunt  Judith  in 
almost  a  tone  of  alarm.  "  Did  any  thing  happen  to 
either  of  'em  ?  " 

"  Happen !  No,  indeed,  but  it's  warm  weather 
there.  Father  complains  of  the  heat.  Green  grass 
and  trees,  and  flowers  and  birds,  and  no  sign  of  win- 
ter !  Seems  as  if  it  couldn't  be  in  the  same  world." 

"  I  don't  half  believe  I'd  like  that  kind  of  winter 
weather,  anyhow,"  said  aunt  Judith  with  emphasis. 


1/6  ll'IXTER   7-T.Y. 

"  When  it's  time  for  snow,  I  want  snow,  and  plenty 
of  it.  'Pears  like  to  me,  it  would  be  kind  of  unnat- 
ural without  sleighin'.  Now,  this  here  winter's  been 
the  most  satisfactory  we've  had  for  four  years  past. 
It's  been  a  real  genuine,  old-fashioned,  right  down 
cold  and  snowy  winter." 

"  And  it's  getting  colder  now,"  said  Deacon  Farn- 
ham.  "There's  no  telling  where  the  thermometer'll 
go  to,  if  it  keeps  on  trying." 

Nevertheless  there  was  a  curiously  pleasant  feeling 
to  be  had  in  listening  to  those  accounts  of  the  differ- 
ent condition  of  things  in  Florida ;  and  Port  was  justi- 
fied in  remarking,  — 

"  I'd  like  a  little  of  that  balmy  air  for  a  while  in  the 
morning,  but  I  wouldn't  care  so  much  for  it  after  I 
once  got  well  a-going." 

"  I  would,"  said  Pen.  "  I  could  go  a-sleighing,  and 
keep  my  feet  warm  all  the  while." 

"  Shouldn't  wonder  if  people  down  there  would  like 
a  little  of  our  ice  at  this  very  time,"  said  her  father; 
while  Susie  herself  declared,  that,  except  for  seeing 
her  mother  and  father,  she  did  not  wish  to  exchange 
winters  with  them. 

When  Corry  came  home  in  the  afternoon,  the  first 
thing  he  said  was,  that  he  was  glad  Pen  had  returned 
at  the  midday  "letting-out." 

"The  wind  blows  down  the  hill  with  an  edge  like 
a  knife,  and  they  say  it's  away  below  zero." 


A    VERY  EXCITING    WINTER  EVENING.       177 

"It's  coldest  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,"  said  Pen  confi- 
dently ;  and  then,  while  Corry  was  warming  himself, 
Susie  and  Port  read  to  him  tantalizing  things  about 
orange-groves,  and  magnolia-trees  and  sunshine,  and 
boat-rides  on  the  St.  John's  River,  away  down  in  the 
sunny  South. 

"  That's  where  De  Soto  hunted  for  the  Fountain  of 
Youth,"  said  Corry ;  "  and  I  guess  Eden  must  have 
been  around  there  somewhere.  It  wasn't  down  in 
Benton  Valley,  anyhow  you  can  fix  it." 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  aunt  Judith.  "  You'd  get  sick  of 
any  kind  of  Eden  that  didn't  need  a  fireplace  for  six 
months  in  the  year." 

Corry's  ears  were  beginning  to  feel  better,  and  his 
opinion  of  the  weather  he  was  accustomed  to  im- 
proved as  the  tingling  subsided.  Still  he  was  quite 
willing  to  discuss  a  little  more  fully  the  wonder  of 
tropical  and  semi-tropical  lands.  Even  after  chores 
were  attended  to,  and  supper  was  eaten,  and  the  whole 
family  gathered  in  the  sitting-room,  they  all  seemed 
to  feel  more  like  talking  than  any  thing  else.  Of 
course  the  knitting  went  on  as  usual,  and  Pen  asserted 
that  her  next  undertaking  in  yarn  was  to  be  a  pair  of 
stockings  for  Porter  Hudson.  It  seemed  as  if  they 
had  just  got  fairly  settled,  before  the  front-gate 
opened  with  a  great  frosty  creak,  as  if  it  pained  the 
hinges  to  be  swung  upon  in  such  cold  weather,  and 
the  sound  of  a  well-known  voice  came  faintly  to  the 
door. 


1/8  ll'/.\'TKR  FC7M 

"  If  it  isn't  Mrs.  Stebbins  !  "  exclaimed  Pen  ;  and 
her  mother  said,  — 

"  Glad  she's  come.  It  isn't  far,  but  it's  neighborly 
for  her  to  look  in  on  such  a  night  as  this." 

"  Hope  Vosh  is  with  her,"  said  Corry  as  he  stepped 
towards  the  door ;  and  so  he  was.  But  they  both  had 
come  upon  something  more  than  a  mere  neighborly 
call.  Hardly  was  Mrs.  Stebbins  inside  of  the  door, 
before  she  exclaimed  sharply,  — 

"  Joshaway  Farnham,  it's  a  wolf,  I  know  it  is !  I 
heard  it  twice  ;  and,  if  I  don't  know  a  wolf  when  he 
howls,  it's  because  the  whole  country  wasn't  full  on 
'em  when  I  was  a  gal.  I've  known  a  man  that 
a'most  made  his  livin'  off  the  bounty  they  sot  on  wolf- 
skelps,  till  they  found  out  that  he  was  raisin'  of  'em 
at  a  place  he  had  away  back  under  Sawbuck  Moun- 
tain ;  and  they  paid  as  much  for  pups'  ears  as  they 
did  for  growed-up  wolves,  and"  — 

"Angeline  Stebbins!"  almost  shouted  aunt  Judith, 
"  what  do  you  mean  ?  There  hasn't  been  a  wolf 
down  so  far  as  this,  these  three  years  and  more  ;  and 
then  they  never  came  nigh  any  house  except  Josiah 
Rogers's  hog-pen." 

"Fact,  though,  now,  I  guess,"  said  Vosh.  "I 
listened  hard,  and  I  believe  I  heard  one  howl." 

"Shouldn't  wonder  at  all,"  said  Mr.  Farnham; 
"what  between  the  deep  snow,  and  the  hard,  cold 
snap.  It  isn't  so  much  because  they  can't  run  down 


A    VERY  EXCITING    WINTER  EVENING, 


the  deer  so  well,  I  believe,  as  because  they  somehow 
get  bolder,  and  sort  of  crazy,  in  bitter  frost.  Did 
you  hear  more  than  one,  Vosh  ?  " 

"Can't  say,  unless  the  same  one  howled  several 
times.  I  heard  it  first  when  I  was  out  at  the  barn, 
and  it  sounded  just  in  the  edge  of  the  woods." 

"I  don't  believe  one  could  get  at  your  stock  very 
easily,  or  at  mine.  You  don't  feel  like  a  tramp  out 
after  wolves  on  such  a  night  as  this?" 

"My  gun's  leaning  against  the  door  outside,"  said 
Vosh,  "if  you  care  to  come  along.  Mother  said 
she'd  rather  stay  here  till  I  got  back." 

"  No  more  chance  of  killing  one  than  there  is  of 
flying,"  remarked  Mrs.  Farnham;  "but  if  Joshaway 
wants  to  go"  — 

The  deacon's  pleasant  blue  eyes  had  been  kindling 
a  little  under  their  shaggy  brows  ;  and  he  was  now 
slowly  rising  from  his  chair,  and  buttoning  up  his 
coat. 

"  I'll  go  as  far  as  the  woods  with  you,  Vosh,  and 
see  what's  the  matter.  —  We  won't  be  gone  a  great 
while,  Sarah.  I'll  only  take  my  double-barrel  :  a 
rifle's  of  no  use  by  moonlight.  Where  are  Port  and 
Corry  ?" 

Nobody  had  seen  them  slip  away  ;  but  their  chairs 
had  been  empty  from  the  moment  when  they  heard 
the  word  "wolf,"  and  saw  Vosh  Stebbins's  shot- 
pouch  slung  over  his  shoulder.  The  deacon  had 


180  WINTER  FUN. 

hardly  picked  up  his  overcoat,  before  they  were  in 
the  room  again,  loaded  with  guns  and  shot-pouches. 

"  Going  for  wolves,  are  you  ? "  said  the  deacon. 
"You  won't  kill  any.  Not  one  has  been  killed  this 
side  of  Sawbuck  Mountain  for  years  and  years. 
Come  along.  Wrap  your  ears  up,  and  put  an  extra 
slug  into  each  barrel  on  top  of  the  buckshot." 

Rifle-bullets  answered  capitally  well  for  slugs,  and 
even  Pen  and  Susie  felt  a  tingling  all  over  when 
they  saw  those  guns  loaded.  Ponto  was  called  in 
from  the  kitchen ;  and  he  too  seemed  to  be  all  tingle, 
as  soon  as  he  saw  the  hunt-like  look  of  matters. 

"He  couldn't  whip  a  wolf,"  said  Corry,  "but  he 
might  be  of  some  kind  of  use." 

"My  father  had  a  dog  once,"  began  Mrs.  Stebbins ; 
but  she  was  interrupted  by  aunt  Judith  with, — 

"Now,  Angeline,  you  sit  right  down,  and  we'll 
have  up  some  krullers  and  some  cider ;  and  they'll  all 
be  frosted  back  again  in  time  to  eat  their  share  of 
'em." 

Ponto  was  doomed  to  disappointment  that  time  ; 
for  Mr.  Farnham,  on  second  thought,  fastened  him 
up  in  the  kitchen  again,  remarking,  — 

"  He'd  only  spoil  any  other  chance  we  might  have. 
—  Come  on,  boys.  Judith  is  pretty  nearly  correct 
about  the  weather,  and  I  guess  I'm  right  about  the 
wolves." 

"I   heard  'em,"   said   Mrs.   Stebbins;   "but  they 


A    VERY  EXCITING    WINTER  EVENING.       l8l 

didn't  say  they'd  sit  down  under  a  tree  and  wait  till 
you  came  along." 

They  were  hurrying  out  of  the  door  as  she  said 
that,  and  there  was  no  danger  of  their  walking 
slowly.  They  had  not  reached  the  gate,  before  Mr. 
Farnham  straightened  up,  exclaiming,  — 

"I  declare!     Hark!" 

It  was  neither  so  faint  nor  so  far  away  that  they 
could  not  hear  it ;  and  it  might  have  been  the  howl 
of  a  lost  dog,  for  all  that  Porter  Hudson  would  have 
known.  There  was  a  hurrying  up  the  road,  after 
that ;  and  the  frost  was  all  but  forgotten  in  the  ex- 
citement of  getting  to  the  woods  as  soon  as  possible. 
There  was  hardly  any  talking  done ;  and  the  snow 
of  the  road  broke  with  a  brittle,  cracking  sound 
under  their  feet. 

"There  it  is  again!"  said  Vosh  at  last,  as  they 
drew  near  the  shadows  of  the  forest ;  "and  it  sounds 
as  if  it  were  nearer." 

"  Nearer  it  is,"  said  the  deacon,  "and  so  is  some- 
thing else.  I'd  like  to  know,  now,  just  how  many 
miles  they've  been  chasing  that  deer.  Hear  him 
jump  ? " 

His  ears  were  better  trained  than  those  of  his 
young  companions,  for  he  had  all  his  life  been  a 
keen  sportsman  ;  but,  on  listening  attentively,  they 
all  declared,  one  after  another,  that  they  could 
hear  something.  Again  they  heard  the  voices  that 


1 82  WINTER  FUN. 

were  coming  nearer,  but  they  were  more  like  yelps 
than  howls  this  time ;  and  Mr.  Farnham  at  once 
asserted,  — 

"  They  are  gaining  on  him.  He  has  turned  again, 
and  is  coming  this  way :  shouldn't  wonder  if  they'd 
been  after  him  all  day.  Hold  still,  boys :  better 
chance  out  in  the  open." 

Yelp,  yelp,  jump,  jump!  and  the  hunters  were 
shivering  with  cold  and  excitement,  for  they  knew 
not  how  many  or  how  few  minutes  more ;  and  then, 
out  through  the  frosty  trees,  in  his  last  desperate 
race  for  life,  dashed  an  all  but  tired-out  buck.  He 
had  run  well  and  far,  but  he  had  reached  the  limit  of 
his  strength.  He  hardly  noticed  the  four  hunters, 
in  his  fear  of  the  enemies  behind  him.  Not  one  of 
them  thought  of  lifting  a  gun  at  him  ;  but,  just  as  a 
staggering  leap  carried  him  down  from  a  snowdrift 
into  the  road,  he  slipped  and  fell.  A  few  seconds 
earlier,  Vosh  had  hoarsely  whispered,  — 

"There  they  come, —  pair  of  'em!"  And  two 
long,  dark  forms,  that  seemed  to  glide  on  in  a  series 
of  silent  undulations,  were  only  a  few  rods  behind 
the  buck. 

"They'll  get  him,"  said  Port,  with  a  keen  sense 
that  his  blood  was  warming  suddenly. 

"Father!"  exclaimed  Corry,  "you  say  when." 

Before  the  buck  could  regain  his  feet,  his  fierce 
pursuers  were  upon  him  with  savage  snarls,  and  his 


A    VERY  EXCITING    WINTER  EVENING.       183 

race  for  life  was  over.  There  was  a  vivid  picture  of 
forest-life  for  one  tremendous  moment,  there  in  the 
middle  of  the  road ;  but  within  thirty  yards  were 
the  four  sportsmen,  and  their  guns  were  at  their 
shoulders. 

"  Keep  your  second  barrels  for  a  moment,"  said 
the  deacon.  "  Be  sure  of  your  aim.  Now ! " 

The  four  reports  followed  one  another  in  swift 
succession,  and  a  storm  of  slugs  and  buckshot  was 
hurled  into  the  struggling  group  in  the  road.  The 
buck  was  down  already,  but  he  rolled  clean  over 
now.  One  wolf  lay  kicking  on  the  snow  beside  him, 
while  the  other  gave  a  bound  and  a  yelp  that  told  of 
a  shot  reaching  him. 

"  Take  that  one,  all  of  you  !  the  other's  done  for. 
Quick ! " 

The  deacon  fired  as  he  spoke,  and  the  rest  fol- 
lowed so  fast  that  nobody  could  even  so  much  as 
guess  who  killed  that  wolf. 

Down  he  went,  and  the  sudden  hunt  was  all  over. 
Two  wolves  had  run  down  a  deer,  only  to  deliver 
their  own  peltry  with  it  to  the  astonished  sportsmen 
they  had  summoned  by  their  ill-advised  howling. 

Porter  Hudson  could  hardly  believe  his  ears  and 
eyes.  He  had  heard  of  wonderful  hunting,  and  now 
he  had  actually  done  some  on  his  own  account. 
There  were  the  forest  savages  dead  in  the  road ;  and 
there  was  Deacon  Farnham  finishing  up  the  deer, 
and  saying,  — 


1 84  WINTER  FUN. 

"  We  couldn't  have  done  that  if  Ponto  had  been 
here  :  he'd  have  rushed  forward,  and  been  in  the  way 
of  our  shooting.  We'd  have  lost  both  of  them." 

"  We've  got  'em  now,"  said  Vosh. 

"One  skin's  yours,  and  half  of  the  buck,"  said 
the  deacon ;  "  and  now  we'd  better  go  for  your  colt 
and  a  sled,  and  haul  'em  home." 

That  was  bitter  cold  work,  but  nobody  seemed 
to  care  where  zero  was  just  then.  The  sled  was 
brought  and  loaded,  and  then  it  was  drawn  to  the 
very  kitchen-door  of  the  Farnham  farmhouse. 

Ponto's  nose  had  told  him  something,  and  he  was 
barking  furiously  at  the  other  side  of  that  door, 
lits  were  hurrying  into  the  kitchen,  and  the  door 
sprang  nervously  open. 

"  Joshaway,  what's  this  ?  Was  anybody  hurt  ? 
\Ye  heard  the  firing,"  gasped  Mrs.  Farnham  in  a 
tone  of  intense  anxiety. 

"Oh,  it's  awful!"  began  Pen,  but  aunt  Judith  was 
calmer. 

"  Got  a  buck,  did  ye  ?  It  wasn't  that  that  did  the 
howling." 

" Sakcs  alive !"  shouted  Mrs.  Stebbins.  "That's 
a  wolf !  I  knew  Vosh  would  kill  something.  Two 
on  'em  ?  Two  wolves  and  a  deer  ?  And  you  wasn't 
gone  no  time  at  all  ;  but  Sarah  and  Judith,  they  said 
it  seemed  as  if  you  was  going  to  stay  all  night.  —  Pen, 
don't  you  teteh  'em.  —  Susie,  what  do  you  think  of 


A    VERY  EXCITING    WINTER  EVENING.        185 

that  ?  —  Joshaway  Farnham,  don't  you  ever  tell  me 
again  that  I  don't  know  the  kind  of  howl  a  wolf 
makes." 

There  she  paused  for  a  moment,  and  the  hunters 
had  a  chance  to  tell  how  that  very  remarkable  affair 
had  actually  come  to  pass. 

"Just  so,"  said  aunt  Judith.  "It  was  the  buck 
tolled  'em  down  for  ye.  They'd  never  have  dreamed 
of  coming,  frost  or  no  frost,  if  they  hadn't  been  a- 
follerin'  of  that  deer." 

She  was  entirely  correct,  but  it  was  pretty  late 
that  night  before  all  was  quiet  in  either  of  those 
two  farmhouses.  The  game  was  slung  up  to  the 
rafters  of  the  woodshed,  to  be  more  thoroughly  at- 
tended to  in  the  morning.  The  excitement  could 
not  be  slung  up  anywhere,  and  Susie  Hudson  was 
aware  of  a  grisly  feeling  that  the  country  was  hardly 
as  safe  a  place  as  she  had  been  in  the  habit  of  think- 
ing. She  was  very  glad,  however,  that  there  were 
guns  in  the  house,  and  she  all  but  wished  that  she 
knew  how  to  load  and  fire  one. 


CIIAITKK    XIII. 

A    FIRES  I  D  1.    STORY. 

PORTER  HUDSON  had  a  great  deal  upon  his  hands 
the  forenoon  following  the  coming  of  those  wolves. 
He  had  to  see  his  uncle  lake  off  their  skins  and  that 
of  the  buek  ;  and  he  had  a  great  many  questions  to 
ask  about  wild  animals  in  general,  and  wolves  in  par- 
ticular. Pen  had  informed  him,  before  she  went  to 
school,  that  the  two  wolf-skins  were  to  be  turned  into 
buffalo-robes  for  Vosh's  cutter  and  her  father's  big 
sleigh.  She  may  also  have  been  correct  when  she 
added,  "They're  the  best  kind  of  blankets  you  can 
get."  Susie  herself  took  an  interest  in  that,  for 
she  was  already  crocheting  the  most  fanciful  red 
border  she  could  think  of  for  the  rich  fur  of  the 
wildcat  they  had  brought  home  from  Mink  Lake.  It 
promised  to  be  an  uncommonly  brilliant  lamp-mat. 

As  for  Vosh  and  Corry  and  Pen,  they  were  even 
eager  to  get  to  school  early.  The  people  of  Benton 
Valley  would  know  nothing  about  the  wolves  until 
186 


A   FIRESIDE  STORY.  1 87 

the  story  should  be  set  a-going.  All  three  of  them 
told  it  well,  not  only  after  they  reached  the  school- 
house,  but  to  some  acquaintances  whom  they  met 
on  the  way.  If  Pen's  version  was  hardly  as  correct 
as  the  other  two,  there  was  certainly  more  of  it ; 
but  her  improvements  were  as  nothing  to  those  it 
received  afterwards.  Every  boy  and  girl  that  heard 
it  carried  it  home  in  a  different  shape.  As  many  as 
could  do  so  at  noon  were  especially  happy  on  that 
account ;  and  such  as  lived  too  far  away,  and  had 
brought  luncheons  with  them,  got  along  as  well  as 
they  could,  holding  in,  and  hoping  that  they  would 
still  be  the  first  to  tell  it  to  their  folks. 

Some  were  sure  to  be  disappointed,  for  such  news 
travels  fast.  One  farmer  who  was  in  the  village 
with  a  load  of  oats  never  waited  to  dicker  about  the 
price  he  sold  them  at,  but  got  away  at  once,  and 
stopped  at  six  houses  before  he  reached  his  own. 
By  supper-time  there  were  elderly  ladies  in  the 
village  who  felt  like  bracing  their  front-gates  with 
boards,  and  wondered  if  the  wolves  were  really  going 
to  pester  the  village  all  winter.  Perhaps  the  best 
and  most  vivid  account  of  the  fight  was  given  by 
one  small  boy  to  Elder  Keyser  and  his  wife  to  carry 
home  to  Cobbleville.  His  description  was  very  good, 
of  how  the  buck  led  the  wolves  into  Deacon  Farn- 
ham's  kitchen ;  and  how  Mrs.  Farnham  and  aunt 
Judith  and  Mrs.  Stebbins,  and  Susie  Hudson  and 


188  \VL\TER  FUN. 

Pen,  were  there  all  alone,  eating  apples,  till  the  men 
came  in  from  hunting,  and  helped  them.  The  elder 
had  a  meeting  to  go  to  that  evening,  or  he  would 
have  driven  over  at  once  to  inquire  into  the  matter, 
and  see  if  any  of  the  family  were  really  very  badly 
bitten  by  those  ferocious  wild  beasts.  He  took 
"  Wolves  in  sheep's  clothing  "  as  a  text  for  his  next 
sermon,  and  it  was  most  attentively  listened  to. 
Klder  Evans  and  his  wife  got  out  their  horse  and 
cutter  at  once,  and  went  in  a  hurry :  so  did  Mrs. 
Squire  King,  only  she  took  her  big  double  sleigh, 
with  the  longest  gilded  goose-necks  in  that  whole 
ion.  There  were  six  ladies  in  it  by  the  time  she 
reached  the  foot  of  the  hill  below  the  Farnham 
homestead  ;  for  she  was  a  good  neighbor,  and  loved 
company.  Somebody  was  out  looking  at  the  wolf- 
skins until  nearly  tea-time ;  but  not  one  soul  would 
stay  to  tea,  after  obtaining  all  the  facts  of  that  affair 
to  go  home  with. 

All  that  Mrs.  Squire  King  saw  of  Susie  Hudson 
made  her  feel  more  in  earnest  about  the  party ;  but 
she  resolutely  sealed  her  lips  over  it,  except  in  a 
small  bit  of  confidential  talk  with  aunt  Judith  and 
Mrs.  Farnham,  and  the  five  ladies  who  went  with  her 
in  her  own  sleigh  to  see  about  the  wolves. 

It  was  a  very  busy  tea-table,  for  ever  so  many 
people  had  to  be  talked  about,  and  what  they  said 
had  to  be  repeated ;  and  Pen  broke  down  entirely  in 


A   FIRESIDE  STORY.  189 

trying  to  rehearse  a  wolf-story  the  teacher  had  told 
the  scholars  who  staid  in  at  noon.  It  turned  out 
to  have  been  a  tiger-story  with  an  elephant  in  it,  and" 
Pen  had  added  the  snow  on  her  own  responsibility. 

After  tea  a  little  while,  Vosh  came  over  with  a 
sled  to  get  his  wolf-skin  and  his  share  of  the  buck ; 
and  it  would  have  been  a  small  miracle  if  his  mother 
had  not  come  with  him.  The  weather  was  every  bit 
as  cold  as  it  had  been  the  night  before,  and  she  said 
so  as  she  entered  the  house. 

"  Never  mind,  Angeline,"  said  aunt  Judith.  "  Sit 
right  down,  and  take  off  your  things,  and  there  won't 
be  any  howling  done  to-night." 

"I  jest  do  hope  not,  Judith  Farnham,  for  I  waked 
up  nine  times  afore  mornin'  last  night,  and  each  time 
I  was  kind  o'  dreaming  that  I  heard  something ;  and 
it  kep'  me  every  now  and  then,  all  day,  a-remember- 
ing  that  story  of  old  Mrs.  Lucas  and  Alvin  Lucas, 
and  that  was  ever  so  long  ago.  And  it  always  did 
seem  to  me  one  of  the  queerest  things ;  and  you 
can't  account  for  it,  nohow." 

"What  was  it,  Mrs.  Stebbins?"  asked  Susie. 
"  Couldn't  you  tell  us  the  story  ?  " 

They  were  all  sitting  around  the  fireplace ;  and 
Susie  was  gazing  at  a  flickering  blaze  on  the  top  log, 
or  she  might  have  noticed  that  her  uncle  and  aunts 
had  not  said  a  word. 

"  Tell  it  ?     Well,  I  s'pose  I  can  ;  but  it  isn't  much 


1 90  WIXTER  FUN. 

of  a  story,  after  all.  They  do  say  that  story-tellin's 
a  good  thing  of  a  winter  evening,  when  it's  as  cold 
as  this ;  but  I  wasn't  ever  much  of  a  hand  at  it,  and 
it's  got  to  be  an  old  story  now,  what  there  is  of  it." 

Vosh  had  no  doubt  heard  the  story,  and  knew  what 
was  coming  ;  but  both  Corry  and  Pen  joined  with  Port 
and  Susie  to  urge  Mrs.  Stebbins  a  little.  The  dea- 
con was  still  silent,  and  aunt  Judith  and  Mrs.  Farn- 
ham  seemed  to  be  knitting  more  rapidly  than  usual. 
Mrs.  Stebbins  hemmed  twice  to  clear  her  throat,  and 
drank  some  cider,  and  said  it  was  a  good  thing  to 
know  how  to  keep  it  sweet  all  winter  by  putting  in 
a  chunk  of  lime  while  it  was  a-fermenting ;  and  then 
she  told  her  story. 

"There's  a  wolf  in  it,"  said  Pen  to  Porter  Hudson  ; 
but  it  went  right  along,  just  the  same. 

"The  Lucases  they  owned  the  farm  we  live  on 
now ;  and  it's  a  right  good  one,  as  soon  as  Vosh  is 
old  enough  to  handle  it  himself.  That  was  away  back 
when  your  uncle  Joshaway  was  a  young  man,  and  he 
and  Alvin  Lucas  were  the  closest  kind  of  friends ; 
and  there  wasn't  a  likelier  young  man  around  here 
than  Alvin  was,  unless  it  was  Vosh's  father  or  your 
uncle  Joshaway.  It  was  before  either  one  of  'em  was 
married  ;  and  the  war  broke  out  the  spring  before, 
and  it  seemed  as  if  all  the  young  men  was  half  crazy 
before  harvestin'  was  over.  There  was  eighteen  of 
the  very  best  and  pick  went  right  out  from  Benton 


A   FIRESIDE  STORY.  1 9! 

Valley,  and  twice  as  many  more  from  over  Cobbleville 
way,  first  thing,  as  soon  as  the  grain  was  in,  and 
some  of  the  after-ploughm'  was  done.  It  was  queer, 
but  somehow,  when  they  came  together,  they  elected 
Alvin  Lucas  captain  of  that  company ;  and  a  young 
fellow  from  Cobbleville  was  next ;  and  Levi  Stebbins 
was  only  a  corporal  at  first ;  and  your  uncle  Joshaway 
was  a  private,  but  he  got  to  be  a  major  before  the 
war  was  over ;  and  Vosh's  father  he  came  home  a 
captain,  with  a  big  scar  on  his  right  arm,  and  he'd 
lost  one  of  his  front  teeth  in  a  scrimmage.  But  I 
must  go  right  on  to  the  wolf  part." 

"  O  Mrs.  Stebbins ! "  exclaimed  Pen  with  a  long 
breath,  "  I'd  forgot  all  about  the  war." 

"So  has  most  people,"  said  Mrs.  Stebbins  ;  "and 
it's  well  they  have,  for  it's  only  a  root  of  bitterness 
now,  and  it  ort  not  to  be  dug  up  for  ever  and  ever. 
But  that  first  winter  after  the  war  begun  was  an 
awful  cold  one,  up  hereaway.  Leastwise,  there  kem  a 
bitter  snap,  like  the  one  we're  having  now  ;  and  some- 
how it  seemed  as  if.  we  never  missed  all  those  young 
men  so  much,  not  even  in  the  fall  work,  as  we  did 
after  winter  sot  in.  There  was  a  good  many  fire- 
places like  this  all  over  the  country,  where  the  folks 
missed  the  best  face  they  had,  for  the  one  that  isn't 
there  always  kind  o'  seems  to  be  the  best ;  and  old 
Mrs.  Lucas  she  counted  on  Alvin,  most  likely,  a  good 
deal  as  I  do  on  Vosh.  He  was  away  down  on  the 


192  WINTER  FUN. 

Potomac  with  his  company,  and  there  hadn't  been  a 
man  of  'em  hurt  up  to  the  time  of  that  cold  snap,  and 
they  sent  letters  home  as  reg'lar  as  clock-work  ;  and 
people  thought  the  war  wasn't  sech  a  dreadful  thing, 
after  all,  so  long  as  nobody  got  killed  from  Benton 
Valley  and  Cobbleville.  Your  folks  lived  right  here, 
and  mine  away  over  on  the  other  hill,  nigh  the  divid- 
ing-line into  the  Sanders  school-district ;  and  your 
grandfather  and  grandmother  Farnham  were  alive, 
and  Susie  Farnham  she  hadn't  married  Reuben 
Hudson  and  gone  to  the  city,  and  Judith  she  was  a 
young  woman  ;  and  those  two  gals  was  at  home  with 
the  old  folks  one  evening"  — 

Just  then  Deacon  Farnham  got  up  from  his 
chair,  and  sat  down  again ;  and  aunt  Judith  rubbed 
her  spectacles  very  hard  indeed,  and  Mrs.  Farnham 
looked  at  her,  sidling,  as  if  to  see  if  she  were  in- 
terested in  the  story;  and  Pen  looked  around  at 
every  one,  for  she  knew  that  Mrs.  Stebbins  must  be 
getting  pretty  near  the  wolf  now. 

"  It  was  one  bitter  cold  night,  and  all  the  Lucases 
were  at  home,  except,  of  course,  Alvin;  and  there 
were  four  younger  than  he  was  ;  but  he  was  the  like- 
liest, as  well  as  the  oldest,  and  his  next  brother 
didn't  go  into  the  war  till  the  second  year.  Old 
Mrs.  Lucas  wasn't  nervous  generally,  but  that  night 
there  seemed  to  be  something  the  matter  with  her ; 
and  it  was  as  dark  as  a  pocket,  as  well  as  being  so 


A   FIRESIDE  STORY.  1 93 

cold  you  could  hardly  keep  the  hens  from  freezing. 
She  kept  a-going  to  the  window ;  and  her  husband, 
I  heard  him  tell  my  mother  about  it,  how  she  seemed 
to  be  listening  for  something,  and  all  of  a  sudden 
she  broke  out,  'John,  it's  a  wolf  !  Hear  him  !  He's 
out  there  in  the  road !  Something's  happened  to 
Alvin ! '  Now,  I  ain't  a  mite  superstitious,  and  she 
wasn't,  and  John  Lucas  wasn't ;  but  there  was  a 
charge  of  buckshot  in  his  gun,  and  he  took  it  up, 
and  went  right  out  "  — 

"Was  the  wolf  there?"  asked  Pen  with  widely 
open  eyes  ;  for  Mrs.  Stebbins  paused  a  moment,  as 
if  for  breath,  and  aunt  Judith's  knitting  had  dropped 
into  her  lap,  and  she  was  staring  hard  at  the  fire. 

"Yes,  Pen,"  went  on  Mrs.  Stebbins,  "and  he  was 
nigher  the  house,  and  he  howled  again ;  and  he  sot 
still,  and  held  his  head  up  to  howl,  till  John  Lucas 
and  his  next  son  —  Roger,  his  name  was  —  got 
within  shot  of  him ;  for  he  was  crazed  with  the  frost, 
jest  as  wolves  will  get  in  sech  times." 

"  Did  they  kill  him  ?  "  asked  Corry. 

"Dead  as  a  mackerel,"  said  Mrs.  Stebbins.  "And 
he  was  the  biggest  kind ;  but  it  didn't  seem  to  com- 
fort Mrs.  Lucas  a  mite,  and  it  was  the  strangest 
kind  of  a  thing,  after  all.  There  isn't  any  supersti- 
tion in  me :  but,  when  the  next  letters  kem  from  the 
war,  there'd  been  a  scrimmage  on  the  Potomac  that 
very  night;  and  Capt.  Alvin  Lucas,  and  four  men 


IQ4  U7.VTF.K  FUN. 

from  Benton  Valley,  and  twice  as  many  from  Cob- 
blcville,  had  been  killed  in  it." 

"  I  don't  believe  the  wolf  knew  a  word  about  the 
skirmish,"  said  Port.  "  He  couldn't,  you  know." 

"  Besides,"  said  Pen,  "  they  shot  him :  and  he 
couldn't  go  all  around  the  valley,  and  over  to  Cob- 
bleville,  and  howl  for  the  other  folks." 

Susie  was  just  going  to  say  something  to  aunt 
Sarah  about  it ;  but  she  and  aunt  Judith  had  sud- 
denly arisen,  and  were  walking  out  into  the  kitchen. 
Mrs.  Stebbins  looked  down  at  her  knitting,  just  the 
same,  and  finished  her  story  as  she  toed  out  the  last 
half-inch  of  that  stocking. 

"  It  kem  awful  hard  on  John  Lucas,  and  he  sold 
out  his  farm  that  next  spring,  and  went  West ;  and 
Levi  Stebbins  bought  it  as  soon  as  his  army  time 
was  ended,  and  he  could  come  home  again  ;  and 
Joshaway  he  staid  in  till  it  was  all  over.  Old  Mrs. 
Lucas,  it  took  her  awful ;  but  she  was  a  good  woman, 
for  she  said  she  couldn't  get  her  mind  right  about 
losing  Alvin  till  she  could  feel  to  sympathize  with 
the  mothers  of  men  that  was  killed  on  the  other 
side.  I  never  had  no  trouble  about  that,  for  Levi 
he  always  spoke  well  of  the  Southern  soldiers,  and 
so  did  your  uncle  Joshaway ;  and  mothers  are  moth- 
ers, no  matter  where  you  find  'em." 

Mrs.  Stebbins  was  quiet  for  a  moment,  and  then 
remarked,  — 


A  FIRESIDE  STORY.  IQ5 

"Lavawjer,  it's  time  we  was  a-going  home." 

"I  guess  it  is,  mother." 

It  was  while  she  was  getting  on  her  things  that 
Deacon  Farnham  beckoned  Susie  Hudson  away  into 
the  parlor  entry  for  a  moment,  and  whispered  to 
her,  — 

"  You  are  old  enough  to  know  some  things,  Susie. 
Don't  say  any  thing  more  about  that  story.  Speak 
to  Port,  and  I  will  to  Corry.  Your  aunt  Sarah's  elder 
brother  was  the  first  man  killed  in  that  skirmish : 
that  was  what  came  to  her." 

"And  aunt  Judith?" 

"  Capt.  Lucas.     They  were  engaged." 

"  O  uncle  Joshua !  " 

"That  is  what  the  war  meant  to  both  sides,  my 
dear." 

"  I'm  glad  it  was  ever  so  long  ago,  and  we  don't 
know  any  thing  about  it,"  said  Susie;  and  that  was 
about  what  Port  said  when  they  spoke  to  him.  It 
was  not  much  of  a  wolf-story,  after  all,  but  it  had 
helped  away  a  winter  evening,  and  perhaps  it  had 
done  something  more ;  for  the  boys  and  girls  of  one 
generation  should  not  be  ignorant,  altogether,  of  the 
sufferings  and  sacrifices  of  those  who  have  lived  and 
died  before  they  came  to  take  their  turn  at  it. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

THE    BEAR-TRAP. 

WHEN  the  family  came  down  to  breakfast  the 
next  morning,  it  looked  as  if  every  thing  but  the 
venison-steaks  and  johnnycake  and  hot  coffee  had 
been  forgotten.  The  steaks  were  capital ;  and  as  for 
the  johnnycake,  nobody  in  all  Benton  Valley  could 
beat  aunt  Judith  at  that  sort  of  thing.  She  was 
proud  of  her  skill,  and  liked  to  see  its  products  eaten ; 
but  even  as  Porter  Hudson  was  helping  himself  to 
his  third  slice,  she  said  to  him,  — 

"  Once,  when  I  was  a  girl,  I  remember  being  out 
of  bread  for  a  whole  week." 

"O  aunt  Judith  !  "  exclaimed  Pen,  "didn't  you  eat 
any  thing  ? " 

"  We  had  plenty  of  milk  and  pork  and  eggs  and 
poultry,  and  we  didn't  starve.  We  pounded  corn  in 
a  mortar  and  made  samp,  and  we  hulled  some  corn 
and  made  hominy,  and  ate  it,  and  did  capitally  well." 

"  I  think  I  could  live  a  while  on  such  starvation  as 
196 


THE  BEAR-TRAP.  197 

that,"  remarked  Susie,  "especially  if  I  had  maple- 
sugar  to  melt  down,  and  pour  on  the  samp." 

"  We  had  some,"  said  aunt  Judith  ;  "  but  we  were 
just  about  out  of  flour  and  meal,  when  there  came  a 
thaw  and  a  freshet ;  and  the  mill-dams  all  gave  way, 
as  if  they'd  agreed  to  go  down  together ;  and  we  had 
to  wait  till  the  mills  got  to  running  again.  It  wasn't 
easy  to  get  a  grist  ground,  even  then ;  but  we  didn't 
suffer  any.  Folks  sent  ever  so  far  for  flour ;  but 
there  wasn't  any  railroad  then,  and  the  roads  were 
awful  for  a  few  weeks.  There  used  to  be  great 
freshets  in  those  days." 

"  That's  a  thing  that  might  come  any  time  after 
the  bears  turn  over,"  said  Mr.  Farnham ;  and  Port 
instantly  asked  him,  — 

"  After  the  bears  turn  over  !  What  have  they  to 
do  with  it  ?  " 

"  Didn't  you  know  that  ?  Well,  well !  You're  a 
city  boy,  and  don't  have  any  bears  at  home.  Every 
bear  hunts  up  a  hollow  tree  as  soon  as  it's  too  cold 
for  him  to  get  around  in  the  woods  comfortably,  and 
sits  down  before  it  till  there's  a  heavy  snow.  Then 
he  creeps  in,  and  gets  the  hole  snowed  up,  and  goes 
to  sleep.  He  never  dreams  of  waking  up  till  spring ; 
but,  as  soon  as  the  sun  is  hot  enough  to  warm  the 
tree  on  one  side,  it  makes  him  comfortable  on  that 
side  of  him,  and  he  turns  over  in  his  sleep  to  warm 
the  other.  It's  a  sure  sign  of  a  thaw  ;  and  the  snow 


198  U'lXTER  FUN. 

melts  pretty  fast  after  that,  till  it's  time  for  him  to 
creep  out  and  get  something  to  eat." 

"  How  hungry  he  must  be  !  "  said  Pen. 

"  When  is  the  best  time  to  hunt  for  bears  ? "  asked 
Port,  with  a  dim  idea  that  he  would  like  to  boast  of 
having  killed  a  few. 

"Along  in  the  fall,  when  the  nuts  are  coming 
down.  They're  fattest  then.  They  trap  'em  every 
year  all  through  the  mountain  country  north." 

"Trap  'em  !  Is  there  any  trap  big  enough  to  catch 
a  bear  in  ?  "  asked  Port. 

"Big  enough!  I'd  say  so.  And  sometimes  it's 
a  wolf,  or  a  wildcat,  or  a  panther,  instead  of  a  bear  ; 
and  I  know  of  a  man  getting  caught  in  one  once." 

"  Did  he  get  out  ?  "  asked  Pen. 

"  I  won't  tell  you  about  it  now ;  but  when  we  get 
into  the  sitting-room  this  evening,  I'll  let  you  know 
just  how  one  man  made  a  bear  of  himself  away  up 
on  Sawbuck  Mountain." 

That  was  something  to  look  forward  to ;  but  not 
long  after  Corry  and  Pen  had  gone  to  school,  Porter 
Hudson  took  his  gun,  and  marched  away  to  the 
woods,  all  alone  by  himself.  The  crust  was  still  as 
firm  as  ever,  and  there  had  been  no  snow  worth 
mentioning  since  the  great  storm. 

"I  don't  know  exactly  what  I'm  going  to  kill,"  he 
said  to  himself;  "but  I'm  ready  for  anything  that 
comes." 


THE  BEAR-TRAP.  199 

His  first  call  for  Ponto  had  been  obeyed  somewhat 
fatly  and  sluggishly ;  but,  the  moment  the  old  dog  saw 
the  gun,  he  was  another  and  a  more  willing  animal. 
He  led  the  way,  head  and  tail  up,  until  he  came  to 
the  spot  in  the  road  where  the  wolves  had  pulled 
down  the  buck.  The  new  snow,  thin  as  it  was,  cov- 
ered all  traces  of  that  adventure.  But  Ponto's 
memory,  or  nose,  made  him  precisely  accurate.  Port 
was  quite  willing  to  stop  a  moment,  and  recall  how 
that  spot  had  looked  in  the  moonlight,  and  how 
uncommonly  loud  and  sharp  had  seemed  to  be  the 
reports  of  the  guns.  All  the  hills  had  echoed  them ; 
and  it  occurred  to  him,  that,  if  he  should  now  meet 
a  pack  of  wolves,  he  would  have  but  two  loads  of 
buckshot,  instead  of  eight. 

"And  no  slugs,"  he  added.  "I  should  have 
brought  some  along.  I  don't  care,  though.  I  could 
climb  a  small  tree,  and  fire  away." 

He  afterwards  noted  quite  a  number  of  small 
trees  well  adapted  to  such  business.  So  were  some 
lower  limbs  of  several  larger  trees,  and  he  stood  for 
a  few  minutes  under  one  of  these.  He  imagined 
himself  sitting  on  that  great  projecting  branch, 
climbing  out  to  where  it  was  ten  feet  above  the 
snow,  with  a  large  pack  of  very  ferocious  and  hun- 
gry wolves  raging  around  below  him,  while  he  loaded 
and  fired  until  the  last  of  them  had  keeled  over. 

"Wolves  can't  climb,"  he  remarked  to  himself; 


200  ll'/XTEK  FUN, 

and  he  felt  that  such  an  affair  would  be  grand  to  tell 
of  when  he  should  get  back  to  the  city.  It  would 
make  a  sort  of  hero  of  him,  and  the  wolves  could  be 
skinned  right  there.  He  enjoyed  it  mentally  ;  but 
that  particular  pack  of  wild  beasts,  killed  off,  in  his 
imagination,  under  that  tree,  were  all  the  game,  of 
any  kind,  that  he  obtained  that  day.  Ponto  did 
better,  for  he  discovered  innumerable  tracks  in  the 
snow,  and  they  seemed  to  answer  his  purposes  admi- 
rably. He  could  sniff  and  bark,  and  run  and  come 
back  again,  and  look  up  into  Port's  face  as  if  he  \\vre 
saying,  "There,  I've  had  another  hunt." 

Port  had  one.  In  fact,  he  hunted  until  he  was 
sick  of  it,  and  decided  that  it  was  altogether  too  cold 
to  hunt  any  longer.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  had 
been  gone  from  the  house  a  very  long  time  indeed  ; 
and  he  was  all  but  astonished,  on  his  return,  to  dis- 
cover that  he  was  quite  in  season  for  dinner. 

"Didn't  you  see  any  thing  whatever?"  asked 
Susie.  She  had  felt  a  little  anxiety  about  him,  con- 
sidering what  dreadful  things  the  forest  was  known 
to  contain,  and  was  even  relieved  to  have  him 
reply,  — 

"  Not  so  much  as  one  rabbit.  You  never  heard 
any  thing  so  still  as  the  woods  are." 

"Didn't  know  but  what  you  might  bring  home  a 
frw  deer,"  said  Deacon  Farnham,  "or  find  a  bear- 
tree." 


THE  BEAR-TRAP.  2OI 

"  I'm  good  and  hungry,  anyhow,"  said  Port ;  "  and 
it's  the  hardest  kind  of  work,  looking  all  around  for 
nothing." 

He  had  not  done  that.  No  city  boy  can  spend  a 
morning  in  the  winter  forest,  with  a  gun  and  a  dog, 
without  learning  something.  It  is  an  experience  he 
will  not  forget  so  long  as  he  lives. 

Those  had  been  great  days  for  Vosh  Stebbins. 
He  felt  that  he  had  new  duties  on  his  hands  ever 
since  his  new  neighbors  came,  and  was  more  and 
more  inclined  to  hurry  home  from  school  in  the 
afternoon,  and  get  his  chores  done  early.  His 
mother  remarked  more  than  once  that  she  had 
hardly  one  moment  to  say  a  word  to  him,  and  that 
he  could  split  more  wood  in  half  an  hour  than  any 
other  boy  in  Benton  Valley.  Nevertheless  it  was 
at  their  own  supper-table  that  evening  that  she  said 
to  him,  — 

"We'd  best  not  go  over  to  the  other  house  to- 
night, Lavawjer.  We've  been  there  a  good  deal 
lately,  and  I  like  to  be  neighborly,  and  it's  a  good 
idee  to  help  'em  with  their  city  cousins,  and  I  never 
seen  any  that  I  took  to  more'n  I  do  to  Port  and 
Susie  Hudson  ;  but  there's  reason  in  all  things,  and 
we  mustn't  be  runnin'  in  too  often." 

Vosh  buttered  another  hot  biscuit,  and  did  not 
make  any  reply,  because  he  could  not  think  of  the 
right  one  to  make.  It  was  made  for  him  just  a  little 


2O2  WINTER  FUN. 

after  tea,  when  he  told  his  mother  that  every  thing 
he  had  to  do  was  done.  She  had  cleared  away  the 
tea  things,  and  had  taken  her  knitting,  and  both  of 
them  were  sitting  by  their  own  fireplace. 

"Our  sittin'-room,"  she  said,  "isn't  as  big  as 
Joshaway  Farnham's,  and  it  doesn't  call  for  more'n 
half  so  much  fire ;  but  it's  a  nice  one,  and  I  wish  we 
had  more  folks  into  it.  We  must  ask  'em  all  to  come 
over  some  evening,  and  I'll  see  if  I  can't  make  'em 
feel  comfortable.  I'll  make  some  cake,  and  we've 
got  a'most  every  thing  else  on  hand.  And  that 
makes  me  think :  I  want  Judith  Farnham's  new  recipe 
for  makin'  the  kind  of  cake  she  had  Christmas  and 
New-Year's ;  and  you  can  put  on  your  overcoat  and 
come  right  over  with  me,  and  we  won't  stay  one 
minute,  and  you  mustn't  let  them  get  ye  to  talkin' 
about  any  thing."  And  Vosh  was  beginning  to  get 
ready  before  she  reached  that  point.  She  put  away 
her  knitting  at  once,  and  said  there  was  plenty  of 
wood  on  the  fire,  for  they  were  coming  right  back  ; 
and  so  Vosh  piled  on  two  more  large  logs,  and  they 
started.  He  may  have  had  ideas  of  his  own  as  to 
how  much  wood  might  burn  while  he  and  his  mother 
were  walking  to  Deacon  Farnham's  and  returning. 
Some  short  walks  are  long  ones,  if  the  people  who 
walk  them  are  not  careful. 

"  I'm  real  glad  they've  come,"  said  Mrs.  Farnham 
the  moment  she  heard  her  neighbors  at  the  gate. 


THE  BEAR-TRAP.  2O3 

"  They're  good  company,  too,  and  it  must  sometimes 
be  kind  of  lonely  for  'em,  —  only  two  in  the  house, 
and  no  young  people." 

Her  fireside  had  no  lonely  look,  and  it  was  all  the 
brighter  for  those  who  now  came  in.  It  was  of  no 
manner  of  use  for  Mrs.  Stebbins  to  speak  about  cake, 
and  say  she  had  not  come  to  stay.  Vosh  settled 
himself  at  once  with  a  hammer  and  a  flat-iron  and 
some  hickory-nuts  ;  and  aunt  Judith  pulled  up  a 
rocking-chair,  remarking,  — 

"  Now,  Angeline,  don't  let  us  have  any  nonsense. 
Sit  right  down  here  and  be  comfortable.  I'll  make  a 
copy  of  the  receipt  for  you  to-morrow,  and  I  always 
put  in  more  eggs  than  it  calls  for.". 

"Vosh,"  said  Pen,  "you  mustn't  make  too  much 
noise.  Father's  going  to  tell  a  story.  It's  of  a  man 
that  got  lost  in  the  woods,  and  made  a  bear  of  him- 
self." 

"  I've  known  fellows  do  that,  and  not  go  far  into 
the  woods  either,"  said  Vosh  ;  and  Susie  thought  a 
moment  before  she  added,  — 

"  So  have  I.  But  then,  some  men  can  be  bears, 
and  not  half  try." 

The  deacon  laughed,  and  put  down  the  apple  he 
was  paring. 

"  I  don't  know  if  it's  much  of  a  story,"  said  he ; 
"but  it  has  one  advantage  over  some  other  stories, 
for  it's  a  true  one.  —  Take  an  apple,  Mrs.  Stebbins. 


204  WINTER  FUN. 

—  Corry,  pass  them  to  Vosh. — Pen,  well,  keep  the 
cat  in  your  lap  if  you  want  her." 

"Now,"  said  aunt  Judith,  "I  guess  everybody's 
ready." 

"  I  won't  go  home  till  after  the  story,  nohow,"  said 
Mrs.  Stebbins  ;  "but  speaking  of  bears"  — 

"Mother,"  interrupted  Vosh,  "you've  dropped  your 
yarn.  Here  it  is." 

"Hem!"  said  the  deacon.  "There  were  more 
bears  all  around  the  country  once  than  there  are 
now,  and  they  did  more  mischief.  It  was  really 
worth  while  to  take  a  hunt  for  'em  now  and  then; 
and  there's  always  a  good  market  for  bear-skins,  if 
you  cure  'cm  well.  The  way  my  story  came  about 
was  this :  — 

"  There  was  one  November  when  the  woods  were 
just  full  of  deer,  and  some  young  fellows  from  Ben- 
ton  Valley  made  up  their  minds  they'd  have  a  good 
hunt  before  the  real  cold  weather  came.  There 
hadn't  been  just  such  an  Indian  summer  for  years 
and  years,  and  camping  out  in  the  mountains  was  no 
kind  of  hardship.  The  nights  were  cold,  but  the 
days  were  warm  ;  and  all  four  of  them  were  strapping 
young  men,  used  to  taking  care  of  themselves,  and 
brimful  of  fun. 

"  They  went  up  beyond  Mink  Lake,  and  it  looked 
as  if  the  dear  kept  away  from  them  all  that  first  clay. 
They'd  have  gone  to  bed  hungry,  if  it  hadn't  been 


THE  BEAR-TRAP.  205 

for  some  fish  they  caught ;  and  the  next  morning 
they  made  up  their  minds  they'd  go  out  singly,  in 
different  directions,  and  see  which  of  them  would  do 
best.  What  was  curious,  they  didn't  have  but  one 
dog  along,  and  his  owner  counted  on  having  the  most 
game,  as  a  matter  of  course." 

"He  was  the  man  that  got  beared,"  whispered  Pen 
to  the  cat  in  her  lap  ;  but  her  father  went  right  on,  — 

"The  man  that  owned  the  dog  started  out  from 
camp  right  along  the  slope  of  Sawbuck  Mountain, 
northerly ;  and  there  are  little  lakes  every  mile  or  so, 
and  they're  just  swarming  with  fish.  He  was  fol- 
lowing an  old  path  that  was  pretty  well  marked. 
Maybe  it  was  an  old  Indian  trail ;  but  white  men 
had  followed  it  in  winter,  for  the  trees  were  blazed, 
so  you  could  follow  it  if  there  was  snow  on  the 
ground  to  hide  it." 

The  deacon  paused  a  moment,  as  if  thinking  how 
to  go  on ;  and  Porter  Hudson  asked  him  eagerly,  — 

"Did  he  have  the  kind  of  luck  I  had  yesterday?" 

"Well,  not  exactly,"  replied  his  uncle.  "Before 
it  was  ten  o'clock  by  his  watch,  he  had  killed  and 
hung  up  three  deer.  Real  fat  ones  they  were,  too, 
and  one  of  them  was  a  seven-year-old  buck  with 
horns  that  were  worth  having." 

"'Pears  to  me,"  remarked  Mrs.  Stebbins,  "the 
deer  nowadays  don't  have  the  horns  they  did  when 
I  was  a  gal ; "  but  the  deacon  went  right  on,  — 


206  WINTER  FUN, 

"He  didn't  know  just  how  many  miles  he  might 
be  from  camp ;  and  he  knew  he'd  need  help  in  carry- 
ing in  those  deer,  unless  he  should  cut  up  the  meat 
and  set  out  to  smoke  it  right  there." 

"  And  good  smoked  deer-meat  is  something  worth 
having,"  said  his  wife. 

"  But  he  walked  on  for  half  a  mile  or  so,  just  as  if 
there  was  any  use  in  going  for  another  deer  that 
day,  till  he  came  out  into  a  sort  of  open.  The  land 
sloped  down  to  the  shore  of  a  little  lake  as  regularly 
and  smoothly  as  if  it  had  been  cleared  for  a  deer- 
pasture.  There  wasn't  a  deer  on  it  just  then  ;  but 
right  in  the  edge  of  the  opening  the  hunter  found 
something  that  set  him  a-thinking.  It  was  a  little 
the  best  bear-trap  he  had  ever  seen.  There  was  a 
ledge  of  rocks ;  and  about  the  middle  of  it  was  a 
break  that  made  a  square  place  the  size  of  a  small 
bedroom,  only  it  wasn't  much  more  than  six  feet 
high  by  ten  feet  deep.  The  fellows  that  made  the 
trap  had  built  up  the  front  with  heavy  upright  logs 
to  hang  their  gate  on,  and  covered  the  top  with 
logs." 

"  Please,  uncle  Joshua,"  said  Susie,  "  what  is  the 
gate  for  ? " 

"To  let  the  bears  in.  Did  you  ever  see  a  figure 
4  rat-trap?  That's  it.  The  gate  lifts  up,  with  a 
strong  sapling  for  a  hinge,  and  the  ends  of  the  sap- 
ling (that's  the  roller)  are  fitted  into  the  logs  at  the 


THE  BEAR-TRAP.  2O? 

sides.  There's  a  long  pole  fitted  into  the  gate  to 
lift  it  by,  and,  when  that's  pulled  down  flat  on  top  of 
the  trap,  the  gate  is  up  about  level.  There  was  a 
wooden  catch  geared  through  the  roof  of  that  trap 
so  nicely,  that,  when  the  pole  was  in  the  notch  of  it, 
the  trap  was  set  to  spring  at  any  kind  of  pull  on  the 
bait.  The  lower  end  of  that  catch  hung  away  back 
by  the  rock,  and  the  whole  machine  was  in  prime 
order." 

"  It  was  somebody  else's  trap,"  remarked  Corry 
doubtfully. 

"  Oh,  he  could  see  that  nobody  had  been  there  that 
year.  The  timber  was  all  seasoned,  and  there  was 
grass  growing  against  the  gate.  There  was  a  good 
stiff  latch,  made  with  a  deep  notch  in  the  logs  to 
hold  that  gate  after  it  came  down ;  and,  if  a  bear  once 
shut  himself  in,  there  was  no  possibility  of  his  get- 
ting out.  The  hunter  looked  it  all  over,  and  made 
up  his  mind  he'd  set  the  trap,  and  go  back  to  the 
last  deer  he'd  killed,  and  get  some  fresh  meat  for 
bait,  and  see  if  something  could  be  done  with  it.  It 
was  some  time  before  he  could  get  at  the  pole  so  as 
to  bring  it  down  ;  but  he  worked  it  with  a  grape-vine 
for  a  rope,  and  it  came  into  place  perfectly.  Then 
he  went  to  his  deer,  and  got  his  bait,  and  hurried 
back,  as  if  he  were  afraid  some  beast  or  other  would 
get  caught  before  the  bait  was  there  to  account  for  it. 
You  use  it  just  as  you  use  toasted  cheese  in  a  rat- 


208  WINTER  FUN. 

trap,  only  you  tie  it  on,  so  it'll  take  a  hard  pull  to 
get  it  off.  A  bear  is  sure  to  pull,  and  that  springs 
the  trap ;  a  panther  isn't  so  apt  to  be  stupid  about 
it ;  and  a  wolf  won't,  unless  he's  hungry.  They're 
more  cunning  than  a  bear  is,  anyhow." 

"  He  didn't  toast  the  whole  deer,  and  put  him  on?" 
said  Pen. 

"  No,  he  didn't  toast  any  thing ;  but  he  was  hard 
at  work,  tying  all  he  had  taken  from  the  inside  of 
that  deer  to  the  catch  of  the  trap,  when  something 
happened  that  he  hadn't  been  looking  for." 

"  Was  it  a  bear  ? "  said  Pen. 

"  Worse  than  that.  He  had  pulled  too  hard  on 
the  catch,  and  it  had  slipped  the  pole  free,  and  down 
came  the  gate  with  a  bang,  and  he  had  trapped  him- 
self completely.  The  gate  just  missed  the  dog  when 
it  fell,  but  it  left  him  outside.  The  first  thing  the 
hunter  did  was  to  laugh.  Then  he  said  he  would 
finish  tying  the  meat  on,  and  go  up  and  set  the  trap 
over  again.  He  tied  it  on  carefully,  and  set  out 
to  get  ready  for  bears ;  but,  when  he  tried  to  lift 
that  gate,  it  wouldn't  lift.  It  was  made  heavy  pur- 
posely;  and  it  was  caught  in  the  notch  below,  just 
exactly  right,  for  the  man  that  made  that  trap 
knew  how.  There  was  nothing  about  it  to  laugh 
at,  and  the  hunter  sat  down  and  thought  it  over  : 
so  did  the  dog,  looking  at  him  through  the  cracks 
of  the  logs,  and  whimpering.  It  doesn't  take  a 


THE  BEAR-TRAP.  209 

good  dog  long  to  understand  when  things  are  going 
badly." 

"  He  could  have  chopped  his  way  out,"  said  Port. 

"Yes,"  said  the  deacon,  "but  he  had  no  axe,  and 
a  jack-knife  is  a  poor  tool  to  work  with  on  seasoned 
timber.  He  tried  it  for  a  while  ;  but  it  seemed  as  if 
he  might  whittle  away  for  a  week,  or  till  he  starved 
to  death,  before  he  could  make  a  hole  to  get  out  by. 
He  couldn't  dig  under,  for  limestone  rock  is  hard 
digging.  He  worked  a  little  at  the  roof,  but  that 
had  been  weighted  with  heavy  stones,  so  that  a 
bear  could  not  have  stirred  a  log  of  it.  On  the 
whole,  it  was  a  pretty  tight  place  to  be  in  ;  and  it  was 
dinner-time,  and  he  was  tremendously  hungry.  He 
rfad  not  a  mouthful  to  eat  or  drink,  and  he  knew  his 
friends  would  not  be  uneasy  about  him  before  night, 
and  not  much  even  then.  He  was  uneasy  already, 
and  so  was  the  dog.  The  poor  fellow  came  and 
pawed  at  the  logs,  and  whined  and  whined ;  then 
he  went  back,  and  stood  and  barked  like  mad  at  the 
whole  concern." 

"  What  a  pity  he  didn't  have  an  axe  to  chop  him- 
self out !  "  said  Pen.  "  Then  he  wouldn't  have  staid 
there  and  starved  to  death." 

"  He  didn't  do  that  exactly,"  said  the  deacon. 
"  He  sat  down  and  thought  about  it,  and  studied  that 
gate,  until  by  and  by  an  idea  came  to  him.  It  was 
the  middle  of  the  afternoon  before  it  came,  but  it 


210  WINTER  FUN. 

was  a  good  one.  There  were  splinters  of  wood 
around  the  floor  of  the  trap,  and  he  had  whittled  a 
heap  of  shavings  from  the  log  he  had  worked  on. 
He  gathered  them  all,  and  began  to  crowd  them  into 
the  chinks  of  the  logs,  away  up  in  both  corners  of 
the  gate,  just  under  the  roller  that  it  swung  on. 
Soon  as  he'd  got  them  well  packed  in,  he  took  out 
his  match-box,  and  set  them  on  fire.  There  isn't 
any  trouble  about  getting  dry  wood  to  burn ;  and  it 
was  plain  enough,  that,  if  the  ends  of  that  roller  were 
burned  away,  the  gate  would  have  to  go  down." 

Everybody  around  that  fireplace  felt  sure  about 
the  burning  qualities  of  seasoned  wood,  for  they  all 
had  to  pull  away  a  little,  and  the  story  went  on. 

"The  fire  kindled  well  on  both  corners.  The  fact 
was,  it  kindled  a  little  too  well,  and  it  spread,  and 
the  smoke  began  to  come  back  into  the  trap.  Just 
before  the  hunter  took  out  his  match-box,  he  had 
looked  around  for  his  dog,  and  the  fellow  wasn't  any- 
where to  be  seen.  There  was  time  now  to  wonder 
what  had  become  of  him,  but  no  amount  of  whistling 
brought  him.  Then  the  smoke  grew  too  thick  to 
whistle  in,  and  the  hunter  lay  down  to  get  some 
fresher  air  at  the  bottom  of  the  gate.  The  fire 
spread  to  the  logs  of  the  roof,  and  began  to  climb 
down  the  gate,  and  the  trap  became  the  hottest 
kind  of  a  place.  It  took  a  long  time  for  all  that ; 
but  there  was  plenty  of  excitement  in  watching  it, 


THE  BEAR-TRAP.  211 

and  in  wondering  whether  or  not  he  was  going  to 
roast  himself  to  death  instead  of  getting  out.  It 
grew  hotter  and  hotter,  until  it  could  hardly  be  en- 
dured, and  the  smoke  was  stifling.  At  last  the 
hunter  sprang  up,  and  gave  a  shove  at  the  gate  with 
all  his  might.  If  he  had  done  it  before,  it  might 
have  let  him  out  sooner.  The  gate  went  over  upon 
the  ground  with  a  crash,  and  one  jump  carried  the 
man  out  of  the  trap.  He  had  left  his  rifle  outside, 
leaning  against  a  tree ;  and  there  it  was  yet,  but 
there  was  not  a  sign  of  the  dog. 

"He  had  left  a  big  piece  of  deer-meat  out  there 
too ;  and  his  next  thought  was  that  he  had  plenty  of 
fire  to  fcook  by,  and  that  he  wanted  some  supper  as 
soon  as  he  had  been  to  the  lake  for  a  long  drink  of 
water.  That  water  tasted  good,  now,  I  tell  you,  and 
so  did  the  broiled  meat  afterwards  ;  for  the  sun  was 
only  an  hour  high,  and  he  had  had  an  early  break- 
fast that  morning.  He  sat  and  cooked  and  ate,  and 
felt  better ;  and  all  the  while  the  fire  was  finishing 
up  the  bear-trap,  roof  and  all.  He  did  his  cooking 
on  the  gate  ;  and,  if  he  had  not  been  able  to  get  out 
when  he  did,  the  gate  and  roof  would  have  cooked 
him." 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Pen.  "And  he  wasn't  hurt  a 
mite  ? " 

"No,"  said  her  father;  "and  just  as  he  finished 
eating,  and  rose  to  pick  up  his  rifle  and  start  for 


212  WINTER  FUN. 

the  camp,  there  came  a  yelp,  yelp,  yelp  through  the 
woods,  and  there  was  his  dog  got  back  again.  lie 
hadn't  come  alone  either;  for  right  along  behind 
him,  travelling  good  and  fast,  were  the  three  other 
hunters.  The  dog  had  been  to  the  camp  for  them, 
and  made  them  understand  that  his  master  was  in 
trouble." 

"  Splendid  !  "  exclaimed  Susie. 

"  And  when  they  saw  the  smoke  of  that  fire,  they 
all  shouted  and  ran,  till  the  dog  gave  a  howl  and  a 
jump,  and  began  to  dance  around  the  man  he  be- 
longed to.  He  told  his  friends  the  whole  story,  and 
there  was  the  fire  to  prove  the  truth  of  it ;  and  each 
of  them  had  killed  a  deer  that  day." 

"And  how  did  you  ever  come  to  know  just  exactly 
how  it  all  happened,"  said  Mrs.  Stebbins,  "  so't  you 
can  tell  it  right  along,  'most  as  if  you'd  been  there?" 

"  Well,"  said  the  deacon,  "  I  suppose  it's  because 
I  was  the  man  that  got  caught  in  the  trap ;  and  the 
other  three  were  Alvin  Lucas,  and  Levi  Stebbins, 
and  Sarah's  brother,  Marvin  Trowbridge,  that's  liv- 
ing now  at  Ticonderoga." 

"  I'd  heard  the  story  before,"  said  aunt  Sarah, 
"and  I  remember  seeing  that  dog  when  he  was  so 
old  he  was  gray." 

"  I  guess  he  didn't  get  turned  out  of  the  house 
when>  he  was  old,"  said  Port  enthusiastically;  "but 
why  didn't  you  fix  the  trap,  and  set  it  again?" 


THE  BEAR-TRAP.  21$ 

"  That's  the  very  thing  we  did ;  and  we  caught 
three  bears  in  it,  and  one  wildcat,  before  the  snow 
came.  Only  we  always  took  care  to  bait  the  hook 
before  we  set  the  trap ;  and  nobody  else  had  to  set 
it  on  fire  to  get  out  of  it." 

"Vosh,"  said  his  mother,  "as  soon  as  I've  finished 
this  apple,  it'll  be  time  for  you  and  me  to  be  getting 
ready  to  go  home." 

"  That's  all,"  said  the  deacon. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

THE    NEW    CHESSMEN. 

PORTER  HUDSON  did  not  feel  like  going  to  the 
woods  the  following  morning.  He  had  a  pretty 
clear  idea  that  they  were  empty,  that  the  bears  were 
asleep  in  their  trees,  that  the  wolves  had  mostly 
been  killed,  that  the  deer  had  run  away,  and  that  the 
cougars  and  wildcats  had  gone  after  them.  He  was 
quite  willing  to  go  to  the  village  with  Susie,  when 
she  told  him  she  must  go  and  see  if  she  could  find 
some  tidy-yarn,  and  some  more  colored  wool  for  the 
last  few  inches  of  the  fringe  for  the  fur  of  the  Mink- 
lake  trophy. 

"There's  three  stores,"  said  aunt  Judith,  "and 
you'll  be  sure  to  find  what  you  want  at  one  of  'em. 
I  can  remember  when  old  Mr.  McGinniss  kept  the 
only  store  in  Benton,  and  it  did  seem  sometimes  as  if 
he  never  had  nothing  in  it  that  you  wanted  to  buy. 
It  was  always  something  else  that  he'd  picked  up 
at  a  bargain,  and  was  asking  two  prices  for,  and  it 

didn't  make  him  rich  neither." 
214 


THE  NEW  CHESSMEN.  21 5 

The  walking  in  the  road  was  good  enough  now, 
and  from  the  very  outskirts  of  the  village  the  paths 
were  all  that  could  be  asked  for ;  but  Port  looked  at 
them  several  times  with  remarks  about  Broadway. 

"If  we  were  there  now,"  he  said,  "we'd  find  all 
the  flagging  clear  and  clean  of  snow." 

"I  almost  wish  I  could  be  there  for  an  hour  or 
so,"  replied  Susie.  "  There'd  be  a  better  chance  of 
finding  just  what  I  want  than  there  is  here." 

The  stores  of  Benton  Village,  however  improved 
they  were  since  aunt  Judith  was  a  girl,  bore  no 
resemblance  whatever  to  those  of  the  great  city. 
There  was  a  cheese  on  the  counter  over  which  Susie 
first  asked  for  colored  wool ;  and  the  young  man  she 
spoke  to  took  down  a  large  pasteboard  box  of  crewel 
and  other  stuff,  and  politely  carried  it  to  the  front 
window.  He  set  it  down  on  a  pile  of  home-made 
sausages,  and  lifted  a  bag  of  flour  out  of  her  way,  so 
that  she  could  make  a  search.  She  found  one  skein 
that  would  do,  and  only  one,  and  she  bought  it. 

"  Now,  Port,  we  will  try  the  next.  I've  made  a 
beginning." 

"That's  more  than  I  thought  you  would  do,"  said 
he.  "It's  a  mixed-up  sort  of  place." 

So  was  store  No.  2,  but  it  had  a  long  showcase  for 
that  description  of  goods,  and  for  fishing-tackle  and 
candies,  and  for  a  lot  of  stuff  that  looked  as  if  it 
might  have  been  intended  for  Christmas  presents  to 
the  heathen. 


2l6  WIXTER   FUN. 

"  It  must  have  been  some  accident,"  said  Susie 
almost  as  soon  as  she  looked  into  that  collection. 
"Here  are  the  very  things.  \Vc  needn't  go  any 
farther." 

The  merchant,  who  was  smiling  across  the  show- 
case at  her,  knew  that  she  was  "that  young  lady 
from  the  city  that's  visiting  with  Deacon  Farnham's 
folks,  and  she  can  skate  like  a  bird." 

He  had  never  seen  a  bird  skate,  but  he  knew  she 
was  pretty,  and  he  was  sincerely  proud  of  the  fact 
that  she  found  the  right  wool  in  his  establishment. 
He  was  doing  it  up  satisfactorily,  when  Port  pointed 
at  a  box  in  the  showcase,  and  asked,  — 

"What's  that,  Mr.  Rosenstein?" 

"Dot  is  chessmen.     I  show  you." 

The  box  was  lifted  out  in  a  twinkling,  and  pulled 
open. 

"  I  thought  as  much,"  said  Port. 

They  had  evidently  been  on  hand  a  long  time,  and 
had  a  forlorn  and  forsaken  look.  The  white  king 
was  in  two  pieces,  and  so  was  one  of  the  black  horse- 
men ;  but  Mr.  Rosenstein  said  encouragingly,  — 

"  I  zell  dose  chessmen  for  two  shilling.  Dey  cost 
me  four.  You  joost  dake  a  leetle  glue  "  — 

"Guess  I  can,"  said  Port.  "I'll  buy  'em. — That's 
what  I've  been  thinking  of,  Susie.  Vosh  can  beat 
me  at  checkers,  but  he  never  played  a  game  of  chess 
in  all  his  life.  I'll  show  him  something." 


THE  NEW  CHESSMEN.  2 1/ 

Mr.  Rosenstein  was  again  very  much  pleased,  for 
that  box  had  been  a  bad  speculation ;  and  Port  and 
Susie  were  bowed  out  of  the  store  a  great  deal. 

There  was  not  much  to  see  in  the  village  after 
that,  but  they  strolled  around  for  a  little  while. 
There  were  many  people  in  from  the  surrounding 
country ;  and  the  jingle  of  sleigh-bells,  and  the  con- 
tinual coming  and  going  of  teams,  made  things  lively. 

One  large  double  sleigh,  with  extravagant  goose- 
necks, pulled  up  almost  in  front  of  them,  and  a  lady's 
voice  called  to  Susie,  — 

"Miss  Hudson!  " 

"  Mrs.  King !  Good-morning.  I've  been  doing 
some  shopping." 

"  Hope  you  succeeded  better  than  I  can  do.  Glad 
I've  met  you.  There  are  your  invitations,  and  your 
aunts'  and  uncle's ;  and  if  you'll  be  kind  enough  to 
send  over  Mrs.  Stebbins's  to  her  "  — 

"  I'll  attend  to  that  with  pleasure,"  said  Port, 
reaching  out  his  hand  for  the  white  envelopes  her 
own  was  offering. 

"And  you  must  all  come,"  said  Mrs.  King.  "  I'm 
going  to  have  my  house  full.  You  will  not  disap- 
point me  ?  Most  of  'em  will  be  young  folks,  but  I'll 
have  a  few  grown-up  people  on  my  own  account." 

Susie  promised  faithfully,  and  Mrs.  King  drove  on. 

"  I'd  like  it  first-rate,"  said  Port,  as  he  read  his 
own  invitation  to  the  party.  "  We  must  go,  Susie. 
It'll  be  fun." 


218  ll'IXTER  FUN. 

"Of  course  I'll  go.  Don't  you  think  she  has  a 
very  pleasant  face  ?  " 

He  spoke  strongly  of  Mrs.  King's  face,  and  they 
turned  to  go  home.  The  fact  that  a  young-people's 
party  was  getting  ready  to  be  announced  at  Squire 
King's  was  a  secret  pretty  well  known  and  carefully 
kept  by  all  Benton  ;  but  everybody  was  glad  to  get  an 
invitation,  just  the  same.  Twenty-three  people,  or 
perhaps  twenty-four,  remarked  that  they  were  very 
glad  Squire  King's  house  was  so  large,  or  there 
wouldn't  be  room  in  it  to  walk  around  after  the  folks 
got  there.  That  was  not  all ;  for  some  of  the  Ben- 
ton  people  found  out,  for  the  first  time,  that  they 
were  no  longer  considered  "young  people,"  and  some 
of  them  felt  as  if  Mrs.  King  had  made  a  mistake  in 
her  reckoning.  Mrs.  Buncc,  the  doctor's  wife,  asked 
her  where  she  drew  the  line  ;  and  she  said,  — 

"  I  don't  exactly  know,  but  if  they've  got  gray 
hair,  or  their  children  go  to  school  "  — 

"That'll  do,"  said  Mrs.  Buncc.  "It  hits  me  in 
both  places.  My  Sam  and  his  sisters'll  be  there, 
and  I'll  come  after  them.  I  hope  you'll  have  a 
good  time." 

There  was  some  stir  at  the  Farnham  and  Stebbins 
homesteads  over  those  invitations.  Both  houses  had 
been  swept  by  Mrs.  King's  list  in  order  to  make  sure 
of  Susie  and  her  brother,  and  it  came  as  both  a  tri- 
umph and  a  trial  to  Mrs.  Stebbins  and  Vosh. 


THE  NEW  CHESSMEN.  2 19 

"They  wear  white  silk  neckties  to  parties,"  said 
she  to  him,  "and  I'll  see  that  you  hev  one.  They 
say  it'll  be  the  largest  young-folks'  party  there  ever 
was  in  Benton  Valley." 

Some  of  the  young  folk  expecting  to  go  were  very 
large,  truly,  but  not  all  of  them ;  for  Penelope  had 
a  special  invitation.  That  was  old  Squire  King's 
work  ;  for  he  knew  Pen,  and  he  declared  that  he 
wouldn't  miss  hearing  what  she  had  to  say  about 
the  company,  and  things  in  general. 

That  had  been  a  busy  day  for  Mrs.  Stebbins,  but 
her  cake  had  turned  out  splendidly. 

"They're  all  coming  over  after  tea,  Lavawjer,"  she 
said  to  him,  "  and  we  must  see  to  it  that  they  have  a 
good  time.  If  you  and  Porter  Hudson  play  checkers, 
you  needn't  mind  a-letting  of  him  beat  you  for  once. 
He  hasn't  won  a  game  on  you  yet." 

That  was  a  fact ;  but  there  was  something  in  store 
for  Vosh  that  evening.  He  had  every  thing  around 
the  house  attended  to  in  prime  good  season ;  and 
his  fireplace  wore  as  bright  a  glow,  for  its  size,  as 
did  Deacon  Farnham's  own.  The  weather  called 
for  that  sort  of  thing ;  but  everybody  was  now  so 
accustomed  and  hardened  to  it,  that  there  was  less 
difficulty  in  understanding  how  the  Russians  can 
make  out  to  be  happy  after  their  frosts  begin  to 
come. 

The  entire  Farnham  family.  Ponto  and  all,  turned 


220  II'/.YJ'XA' 


out  in  a  procession  soon  after  supper,  and  they  made 
a  noisy  walk  of  it  to  their  neighbor's  gate. 

"  There  they  come  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Stebbins  ; 
"  and  they're  all  talking  at  once,  and  it  sounds  as  if 
they  were  in  good  sperrets,  and  we  must  keep  'em 
a-going,  and  you  mustn't  talk  too  much  yourself,  and 
give  'em  a  fair  chance,  and  "  — 

The  door  flew  open  at  that  moment,  and  Pen's 
voice  shouted,  — 

"They're  all  a-coming,  Mrs.  Stebbins!  —  O  Ponto! 
I  never  ought  to  have  let  you  get  in.  —  Vosh,  turn 
him  out  before  he  has  time  to  shake  himself." 

It  was  too  late  for  that,  and  Mrs.  Stebbins  would 
not  have  had  a  dog  of  the  Farnham  family  turned 
out  of  her  house  at  any  time.  Ponto  was  made  at 
home  by  everybody  but  the  cat  ;  and  even  she  showed 
very  plainly  that  she  knew  who  he  was,  even  if  she 
could  not  call  him  by  name. 

"  Here  we  are,"  said  aunt  Judith.  "  Did  your  cake 
come  up?  Hope  it  didn't  fall." 

"Fall!  No.  It's  just  the  lightest  kind.  Now,  do 
get  your  things  off,  all  of  ye,  and  sit  down.  I'm  to 
your  house  often  enough,  and  I'm  right  glad  to  hev 
the  whole  of  you  in  mine  at  once,  and  not  scattering 
along." 

The  room  looked  all  the  cosier  for  not  being  large  ; 
and,  as  soon  as  everybody  had  found  a  chair,  Vosh 
was  justified  in  saying  to  Port  and  Corry,  — 


THE  NEW  CHESSMEN.  221 

"Now,  if  this  isn't  first-rate,  I'd  like  to  know  what 
is." 
-  Port's  reply  was,  — 

"  I  got  me  a  set  of  chessmen  down  in  the  village 
to-day,  and  I  brought  them  over  with  me.  It's  worth 
all  the  checkers." 

Everybody  seemed  disposed  to  take  an  interest  in 
that  matter.  The  chessmen  were  turned  out  of  their 
box,  and  showed  signs  of  recent  discipline.  They 
had  a  bright  and  much-rubbed  look.  A  little  glue 
had  remounted  the  knight,  and  set  up  the  broken 
king;  and  when  Corry  remarked,  "Didn't  he  get  'em 
cheap  ? "  he  expressed  the  general  opinion. 

Vosh  looked  at  them  eagerly,  and  began  to  set 
them  in  their  places.  He  had  never  played  a  game 
of  chess ;  but  he  had  watched  the  playing  of  several, 
and  that  was  something  to  a  good  checker-player. 
It  was  not  all  new  ground.  From  the  moment  he 
had  heard  about  Port's  purchase,  by  way  of  Corry, 
his  mind  had  busied  itself  with  his  memories  of 
the  games  he  had  watched ;  and  he  was  at  this  hour 
crammed  full  of  enthusiasm  for  the  royal  game. 

"Vosh,"  said  Port,  "suppose  Susie  and  I  play  a 
game,  and  you  look  on  and  learn  the  moves." 

"No,"  said  Susie:  "you  and  Vosh  play,  and  I'll 
be  his  adviser.  I  can  play  as  well  as  you  can." 

"Better  too,  if  I  make  blunders  in  the  opening." 

"Lavawjer,"  remarked  his  mother,  "that's  what 


222  WINTER  FUN. 

you'd  better  do ;  and  I  don't  suppose  you  can  learn 
much  in  one  evening,  but  you  can  make  a  start  at 
it.  They  say  it's  an  awful  hard  thing  to  get  into, 
and  there  was  a  man  over  in  Scoville's  Corners  that 
went  crazy  just  a-studying  over  it." 

The  chessmen  were  in  place  by  that  time,  and  so 
were  the  players ;  and  Susie  began  to  explain  to 
Vosh  the  different  powers  of  the  pieces.  He  listened 
politely,  but  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  he  already  began 
to  see  into  the  matter.  He  was  only  too  confident 
of  what  he  saw,  for  a  trifling  neglect  by  him  of 
Susie's  advice  enabled  her  brother  to  announce  what 
players  call  "  the  scholar's  mate "  in  a  very  few 
moves. 

"I  told  you  so,  Lavawjer,"  said  his  mother.  "She 
knew  jest  what  she  was  about,  and  you  didn't."  But 
there  was  no  danger  that  her  son  would  ever  again 
be  defeated  by  so  simple  a  combination.  The  second 
game,  with  Susie's  help,  was  more  protracted ;  and 
then  it  was  aunt  Judith's  keen  eyes  that  detected 
the  state  of  mind  Vosh  had  arrived  at. 

"Susie,"  she  said,  "let  him  alone  this  time.  He's 
got  a-going  now.  Don't  say  one  word  to  him,  and 
let's  see  how  he'll  work  it  out." 

"I  won't  speak,  Vosh,"  said  Susie.  "Go  right 
ahead  now.  —  It  won't  be  long,  Port,  before  he'll 
catch  up  with  you." 

Vosh  was  not  a  conceited  young  fellow,  but  he 


THE  NEW  CHESSMEN.  223 

had  a  fair  degree  of  self-confidence.  He  was  not 
afraid  of  any  reasonable  undertaking  at  any  time, 
but  he  had  a  queer  experience  coming  to  him  just 
now.  He  found  his  imagination  running  away  ahead, 
and  placing  those  men  on  the  board  in  new  positions, 
and  then  understanding  what  would  be  the  conse- 
quences of  those  arrangements.  It  was  the  power  to 
do  that  very  thing  which  had  made  him  so  good  a 
checker-player ;  but  he  had  never  used  it  so  vividly 
as  now,  and  it  almost  startled  him.  All  the  brains 
in  the  world  are  not  made  upon  the  same  pattern, 
and  not  many  boys  with  good  heads  on  their  shoul- 
ders know  what  is  in  them. 

The  older  people  were  having  a  good  time  in  their 
own  way,  but  every  now  and  then  they  turned  to 
watch  that  third  game  of  chess.  Susie  was  in  a  fever 
several  times,  and  came  very  near  breaking  in  with 
advice,  as  her  pupil  seemed  running  into  dangers. 
Each  time  she  checked  herself ;  and  each  time  Vosh 
discovered  the  snags  ahead  of  him,  and  avoided  them. 
Port  himself  was  getting  more  deeply  interested 
than  he  had  expected,  and  called  up  all  he  had  ever 
learned.  He  was  not  a  bad  player  for  so  young  a 
one,  and  he  had  worked  out  problems,  and  studied 
printed  games.  He  remembered  one  of  the  latter 
now,  that  seemed  to  fit  his  present  case  very  well, 
and  he  tried  to  make  it  serve  as  a  trap  for  Vosh 
Stebbins.  It  seemed  a  success  at  first,  but  it  was 


224  WINTER  FUN. 

just  like  Joshua  Farnham's  bear-trap  exactly  :  the 
fellow  that  was  caught  in  it  destroyed  it  altogether. 
There  was  a  way  out  of  the  proposed  defeat  which 
had  not  been  seen  by  the  newspaper  problem-maker, 
and  Vosh  found  it. 

That  was  the  end  of  the  game  ;  and,  in  a  few 
moves  more,  Port  was  himself  in  a  tangle  from  which 
he  could  not  escape.  He  was  beaten.  He  was  tre- 
mendously exercised  by  the  laugh  that  went  around 
the  room,  and  by  Susie's  patting  him  on  the  head 
and  advising  him  to  wake  up.  He  had  not  dreamed 
of  any  such  result,  and  called  for  another  trial.  That 
game  he  managed  to  win,  and  one  more ;  but  beyond 
that  neither  he  nor  any  other  but  a  really  good 
player  was  likely  to  go  with  Vosh  Stebbins. 

"  I  declare,  Sarah  ! "  exclaimed  the  deacon  at  last : 
"we've  staid  too  late.  We  must  go  home  at  once." 

Mrs.  Stebbins  protested  that  it  was  early ;  but  the 
game  of  chess  was  over,  and  go  they  did.  Every 
slice  of  all  that  remarkable  cake  had  been  eaten,  and 
all  declared  that  they  had  had  an  uncommonly  pleas- 
ant evening.  Pen  improved  it  by  remarking,  — 

"  Port's  had  a  pretty  hard  time,  but  he'll  get  over 
it." 

After  the  company  were  gone,  and  the  house  was 
quiet,  and  Vosh  could  go  to  bed,  it  seemed  to  him  as 
if  he  should  never  get  to  sleep.  It  was  not  exactly 
the  fact  that  chess-problems  were  troubling  his 


THE  NEW  CHESSMEN.  22  5 

brains  :  it  was  more  the  yet  greater  fact  that  he 
had  discovered  brains  in  his  head  that  he  had  not 
known  of.  With  that  also  came  the  idea  that  he 
must  find  some  better  use  for  them  than  any  kind  of 
game  could  give  him. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

WINTER    FLOWERS    AND    THE    PARTY. 

SQUIRE  KING  was  one  of  the  most  liberal  of  men, 
and  he  had  something  to  be  liberal  with.  He  had 
gradually  gone  more  and  more  into  the  spirit  of  the 
young  folks'  party  matter,  and  had  even  astonished 
his  wife  by  the  things  he  did  and  proposed. 

To  have  had  actual  dancing  would  have  offended 
some  of  the  best  people  in  the  village ;  but  every  other 
kind  of  amusement  that  was  to  be  tolerated  he  pro- 
vided for,  and  he  almost  doubled  the  allowance  of 
ice-cream  and  confectionery.  He  had  no  idea,  nor 
had  even  his  wife,  what  an  amount  of  work  and  of 
contriving  they  had  provided  for  their  neighbors. 
Every  store  in  Benton  Village,  and  some  over  in 
Cobbleville,  did  a  better  business  from  the  hour  in 
which  Mrs.  King's  invitations  were  delivered. 

The  family  at  the  Farnham  homestead  seemed  to 
concentrate  their  interest  upon  the  kind  of  appear- 
ance  Susie   Hudson  was  to  make.     Even   Pen   re- 
marked to  her,  — 
226 


VINTER  FLOWERS  AND    THE  PARTY.         22/ 

"  They  all  know  me,  and  they  won't  care  so  much 
how  I  look ;  but  you're  from  the  city,  and  every  one 
of  'em'll  look  at  you  as  soon  as  you  come  in." 

Susie  had  brought  a  good  enough  wardrobe  with 
her ;  and  aunt  Judith  herself  declared  it  extravagant, 
but  at  the  same  time  selected  the  best  things  in  it 
for  use  at  Mrs.  King's  party. 

"I  shall  have  no  trouble  at  all,"  said  Susie. 
"  There  needn't  be  any  thing  added  to  that  dress." 

"No,"  said  Pen,  "it's  mine  that's  got  to  be  added 
to."  But  there  was  one  lady  in  the  neighborhood 
who  was  of  a  different  opinion. 

The  very  morning  of  the  party,  Mrs.  Stebbins  said 
to  her  son,  — 

"I  don't  keer  if  you  do  miss  a  day's  schoolin'. 
You  jest  hitch  up  the  colt  after  breakfast." 

"  Going  somewhere  ?  " 

"  I'll  tell  you  after  we're  a-going.  It  won't  be  any 
short  drive,  now.  I'm  going  to  hev  my  own  notions 
for  once.  She's  the  nicest  gal  I  know  of." 

"  Do  you  mean  Susie  Hudson  ?  " 

"  I'll  show  you  what  I  mean,  and  if  I  don't  open 
somebody's  eyes ! " 

She  evidently  had  some  plot  or  other  on  her 
mind,  and  she  grew  almost  red  in  the  face  over  it  at 
the  breakfast-table.  She  finished  putting  away  the 
dishes  while  Vosh  was  out  getting  ready  the  colt  and 
cutter,  but  she  did  not  seem  disposed  to  tell  even 


228  l\'L\'TKR  FUN. 

herself  precisely  what  her  plans  were.  It  was  not 
until  she  and  her  deeply  interested  driver  were  act- 
ually driving  into  Benton  that  she  came  out  with  it. 

"Vosh,"  she  said,  "take  right  down  the  main 
street,  and  out  the  Cobbleville  road.  We're  going 
way  to  cousin  Jasper's." 

"That's  three  miles  beyond.  Well,  it  isn't  much 
of  a  drive  in  such  sleighing  as  this  is.  The  colt's 
feeling  prime.  But  what's  it  for?" 

"We're  going  all  the  way  to  cousin  Jasper  I  lard- 
ing's  ;  and,  if  the  frost  hasn't  clean  killed  out  his 
hot-house,  I'm  going  to  hev  somethin'  for  Susie 
Hudson  that  the  rest  on  'em  can't  get  a  hold  of. 
The  last  time  I  seen  him  he  said  his  plants  was  doing 
first-rate,  and  he'd  put  in  steam-pipe  enough  to  save 
'cm  if  the  frost  was  a-splitting  the  rocks.  He  hasn't 
any  use  for  'em  on  earth,  except  that  he  had  lettuce 
and  radishes  for  his  Christmas  dinner." 

There  was  steady  work  for  the  sorrel  colt  after 
that,  and  the  bells  jingled  the  merriest  kind  of  tune 
right  through  Cobbleville  without  stopping.  When 
"cousin  Jasper's"  was  reached,  it  was  nothing  but  a 
long-built,  story-and-a-half  white  house,  with  no  pre- 
tension whatever.  There  were  young  fruit-trees 
around  it  in  all  directions,  and  uncommonly  exten- 
sive trellises  for  vines ;  and  at  one  end  the  glass 
roof  of  a  hothouse  barely  lifted  itself  above  the 
snow-banks.  One  man,  at  least,  in  that  region,  had 


WINTER   FLOWERS  AND    THE  PARTY.         22Q 

materially  added  to  his  other  resources  for  winter 
enjoyment. 

"  He  says  it  doesn't  cost  him  any  thing  to  speak 
of,"  said  Mrs.  Stebbins  to  Vosh.  "  He's  got  some 
fixings  rigged  to  the  big  stove  in  the  parlor,  to  send 
the  steam  around  the  hot-house,  and  the  fire  doesn't 
go  out  in  that  stove  all  winter  long.  I'd  kind  o'  like 
to  try  it  some  day  myself.  It's  the  getting  started 
that  costs  money." 

"And  then,"  said  Vosh,  "there's  the  knowing  how 
to  do  it." 

He  thought  so  again  after  he  got  into  that  bit  of  a 
winter  garden,  and  looked  around  him.  Cousin  Jas- 
per Harding  was  an  under-sized  man,  and  his  wife 
was  a  short  woman  of  twice  his  weight.  They  could 
stand  erect  where  Vosh  had  to  stoop  a  little ;  but  he 
could  stand  up  in  the  middle,  and  see  what  they 
pointed  out  to  him.  Both  were  glad  to  see  him  and 
his  mother,  and  to  have  them  stay  to  dinner  ;  but, 
for  some  reason  or  other,  Mrs.  Stebbins  was  slow 
about  opening  her  errand.  Vosh  wondered  a  little, 
but  he  waited  and  listened.  It  was  at  the  dinner- 
table  that  she  began  to  tell  about  the  young  folks' 
party  to  be  at  Mrs.  King's  that  evening.  From  that 
she  went  over  to  Deacon  Farnham's,  and  told  about 
Susie  Hudson,  and  how  pretty  she  was,  and  about 
her  skating,  and  all  the  nice  evenings  at  the  deacon's, 
and  at  last  somewhat  suddenly  inquired,  — 


230  WINTER  FUN. 

"  Didn't  you  use  to  think  a  good  deal  of  Joshaway 
Farnham  and  his  wife,  and  Judith,  and  "  — 

"Best  friends  I  ever  had  in  my  life." 

"  I  was  thinking,  Jasper.  City  girls  are  used  to 
having  a  sprig  of  something  to  wear  in  their  dresses 
to  a  party.  Now,  I  know  it  would  please  Joshaway 
and  Sarah  and  Judith  if  you'd  send  a  bit  of  some- 
thing green, — jest  a  leaf  or  so,  not  to  rob  any  of 
your  plants.  There  ain't  many  of  'em,  and  cutting 
'em  might  hurt  'em  ;  and  where  a  man  hasn't  but  a 
little  "  — 

"Something  green?  Guess  so.  There's  more  in 
that  hot-house  than  you  think  there  is,  Angeline." 

"  Well,  maybe  there  is.  It  looks  too  nice  to  take 
out  any  thing  of  what  few  plants  you've  got." 

"You  just  finish  your  pie,  and  come  along.  I'll 
show  you  something  you  think  I  can't  do.  I'd  like 
to  do  a  favor  for  any  girl  of  that  family.  Tell  her  I 
k  no  wed  her  mother  'fore  she  was  born.  I'll  go  right 
in  now ;  be  ready  by  the  time  you  get  there.  —  Betsey, 
you  keep  Angeline  company,  and  I'll  show  her  some- 
thing." 

He  certainly  astonished  both  her  and  Vosh.  As 
she  afterwards  explained  to  the  latter,  no  money 
could  have  made  him  part  with  any  of  his  hot-house 
treasures  as  a  direct  sale,  nor  would  he  have  given 
them  for  the  asking.  She  had  to  get  them  the  way 
she  did ;  but  there  they  were. 


WINTER  FLOWERS  AND    THE  PARTY.         231 

"  That's  for  her  throat -latch,  Angeline  ;  and  she 
can  put  that  on  her  waistband,  —  little  fellows,  you 
know.  She  can  carry  that  in  her  hand ;  and,  if  she 
wants  to  send  her  photygraph  to  old  Jasper  Harding 
and  his  wife,  she  can.  I'll  hang  it  up  in  the  hot- 
house." 

Mrs.  Stebbins  had  a  great  deal  to  say  about  those 
flowers  and  green  leaves,  and  the  skill  with  which 
they  had  been  cultivated  and  now  were  put  together, 
and  she  added,  — 

"Now,  Betsey,  Vosh  and  I  must  go.  Jasper's 
bokay  and  the  buds'll  be  worn  by  the  nicest  and 
prettiest  gal  at  Mrs.  King's  party,  and  I  wish  you 
two  were  going  to  be  there  to  see." 

In  a  few  minutes  more  the  colt  was  brought  from 
his  dinner  in  the  barn,  Mrs.  Stebbins  was  in  the 
cutter  guarding  her  prizes,  the  liberal  florist  was 
thanked  again,  and  then  the  bells  made  lively  music 
homeward. 

Very  complete  was  the  astonishment  on  all  the 
faces  in  the  Farnham  sitting-room  when  Mrs.  Steb- 
bins walked  in,  and  announced  the  results  of  her 
morning's  undertaking.  The  sorrel  colt  had  trotted 
twenty  miles  and  more  for  the  sake  of  Susie  Hudson ; 
but  it  was  Vosh's  mother  who  got  kissed  for  it,  and 
that  was  probably  sound  justice.  She  also  received 
an  invitation  to  go  and  come  in  Deacon  Farnham's 
sleigh,  and  so  the  sorrel  colt  did  save  an  evening  job 
in  cold  weather. 


232  WINTER  FUN. 

Vosh  was  particularly  glad  of  that  invitation.  He 
was  a  young  man  of  a  good  deal  of  courage,  but  it 
seemed  to  him  that  he  could  march  into  Mrs.  King's 
front  parlor  more  easily  with  a  crowd  than  with  only 
his  mother  or  alone.  Corry  was  not  troubled  in  that 
way,  nor  Penelope;  and  Porter  Hudson  was  only  too 
well  aware  that  he  was  from  the  city,  and  had  been 
to  parties  before.  He  had  no  doubt  whatever  that 
he  would  know  how  to  do  the  right  things  in  the 
right  place,  but  that  was  just  where  Vosh  Stebbins 
found  his  courage  called  for.  He  made  a  mental  ' 
chessboard  of  Mrs.  King's  premises,  and  the  people 
who  were  to  be  in  them,  and  found  that  he  could  not 
place  the  pieces  to  suit  himself.  He  was  the  worst 
piece  in  the  whole  lot  whenever  he  arranged  one  of 
those  society  problems.  It  was  a  game  he  had  never 
played,  and  he  was  only  half  sure  he  could  win  at  it. 
He  was  confident  of  being  as  well  dressed  as  was 
necessary,  except  that  he  wondered  whether  or  not 
any  one  would  wear  gloves.  His  mother  settled  that 
for  him,  and  Mr.  Rosenstein  could  have  told  him 
that  only  three  young  men  in  Benton  had  bought 
any.  These  had  run  the  risk  of  it,  meaning  to  put 
them  on  if  it  should  be  necessary.  One  had  pur- 
chased white  kids,  and  another  a  black  pair,  while 
the  third  had  heard  that  bright  yellow  was  the 
correct  thing.  The  pair  he  selected  were  very  bright 
and  very  yellow. 


WINTER  FLOWERS  AND    THE  PARTY.         233 

Susie  Hudson's  dress  did  not  trouble  aunt  Judith's 
mind  after  she  saw  it  on,  and  she  remarked  of  it,  — 

"  Now,  Sarah,  I'm  glad  there  isn't  any  thing  showy 
about  it.  It's  just  the  best  thing.  She  isn't  looking 
as  if  she  was  putting  on.  It'll  be  all  the  prettier 
when  the  flowers  are  there,  and  nobody  else'll  have 
any." 

It  was  simple,  tasteful,  of  very  good  material,  and 
there  was  no  question  as  to  the  good  effect  of  the 
flowers.  Susie  was  all  but  sorry  that  she  was  to  be 
alone  in  that  particular ;  and  so,  as  soon  as  she  got 
there,  was  every  other  girl  in  the  room. 

The  deacon's  hired  man  lived  at  some  distance 
down  the  road,  but  he  came  up  to  look  out  for  the 
team,  and  was  sent  first  to  the  Stebbins  house. 

Vosh  and  his  mother  were  ready,  and  he  was 
thinking  of  his  new  white  silk  necktie  when  he  came 
to  the  door  with  her.  The  man  in  the  sleigh  could 
not  hear  him  think,  and  did  not  know  what  a  burden 
a  necktie  can  be ;  but  he  did  hear  Mrs.  Stebbins 
remark,  — 

"Now,  Lavawjer,  the  one  thing  you're  to  remem- 
ber is,  that  you  mustn't  talk  too  much.  Let  other 
folks  do  the  talking,  and,  if  you  keep  your  eyes  about 
ye,  you  may  learn  something." 

He  had  already  begun  not  to  talk  too  much,  for 
hardly  a  word  escaped  him  till  they  got  to  the 
Farnham  gate. 


234  ll'JXTER  FUN. 

"I'll  go  in  and  see  if  they're  ready,"  he  said,  and 
was  preparing  to  get  out. 

"  I  guess  I'll  go  in  too,"  added  his  mother.  "  I'd 
like  to  see  how  they're  all  a-looking." 

At  that  moment,  however,  the  front-door  swung 
open,  and  a  procession  marched  out,  headed  by  Pen, 
and  closed,  as  was  the  door  behind  it,  by  her  father. 

"We're  all  fixed,  Vosh,"  said  Pen.  "My  back 
hair's  in  two  braids,  and  Susie's  got  a  bracelet  with 
a  gold  bug  on  it,  and  Port's  got  on  his  summer  shoes, 
and  aunt  Judith  "  — 

Just  there  her  account  of  the  condition  of  things 
was  cut  off  by  the  general  confusion  of  getting  into 
the  sleigh,  but  Pen  made  up  for  it  afterwards.  Vosh 
again  showed  a  strong  tendency  to  take  his  mother's 
advice,  and  the  drive  to  the  village  was  by  no  means 
a  long  one.  They  were  not  any  too  early,  and  had 
to  wait  for  three  other  sleigh-loads  to  get  out,  before 
theirs  could  be  drawn  in  front  of  the  pathway  cut 
through  the  drifts  to  the  sidewalk.  Only  one  of 
Mrs.  King's  guests  was  very  late  that  evening,  and 
he  was  a  young  man  who  was  learning  to  play  the 
flute,  and  had  heard  that  fashionable  people  never 
went  anywhere  till  after  nine  o'clock.  Besides,  it 
took  him  an  hour  or  so  to  decide  not  to  carry  his 
flute  with  him. 

It  helped  Vosh  a  great  deal,  that  they  all  had  to  go 
to  the  dressing-rooms  first,  and  unwrap  themselves. 


WINTER  FLOWERS  AND    THE  PARTY,         235 

After  that,  it  all  came  easier  than  he  had  expected, 
for  Squire  King  and  his  wife  had  a  hearty,  kindly 
way  of  welcoming  people.  Perhaps  it  helped  him 
somewhat,  that  they  had  no  opportunity  to  say  too 
much  to  him  just  then,  and  he  could  go  right  on  fol- 
lowing his  mother's  advice. 

There  was  a  stir  in  the  rooms,  that  Susie  did  not 
at  all  understand,  when  she  and  her  brother  passed 
on  to  mingle  with  the  rest  of  the  young  people. 
Some  of  them  had  seen  her  before,  and  some  had 
not,  and  all  of  them  were  taking  a  deeper  interest  in 
her  dress  and  appearance  than  she  had  any  idea  of. 
It  was  as  well  for  her  comfort,  that  she  was  ignorant 
of  it,  and  that  she  did  not  hear  eleven  different 
young  ladies  assure  each  other,  "  She  must  have  sent 
away  to  the  city  for  those  flowers." 

Her  uncle  and  aunts  were  exceedingly  proud  of 
her,  and  so  was  Pen.  In  fact,  the  latter  informed 
several  persons  whom  she  knew,  "  She's  my  cousin 
Susie,  and  she's  the  prettiest  girl  there  is  here ;  but 
I  don't  believe  I  shall  look  much  like. her  when  I 
grow  up." 

Squire  King  asked  her  why  not,  when  she  told 
him,  and  was  at  once  informed,  — 

"  Susie's  never  been  freckled,  and  mine  won't  ever 
come  off.  They  go  away  round  to  the  back  of  my 
neck.  Most  all  the  girls  here  have  got  'em,  but  they 
don't  amount  to  any  thing." 


236  WINTER  FUN. 

"  Freckles,  or  girls  either,"  laughed  the  squire. 
"  But,  Pen,  does  your  cousin  play  the  piano  ?  " 

"Of  course  she  does,  only  we  haven't  any,  and  so 
she's  learned  how  to  spin.  She  can  crochet,  but  I 
showed  her  how  to  heel  a  stocking,  and  so  did  aunt 
Judith." 

"  I'm  sure  she  can,"  remarked  Mrs.  King.  "  I'll 
go  and  ask  her  myself." 

That  was  not  until  the  party  had  been  in  full 
operation  for  some  time  ;  and  quite  a  number  were 
wondering  what  it  was  best  to  do  next,  when  Mrs. 
King  led  Susie  to  the  piano.  Several  of  the  local 
musicians  had  already  done  their  duty  by  it,  and  Susie 
had  consented  without  a  thought  of  hesitation.  She 
heard  a  remark  as  she  passed  one  young  lady  who 
had  barely  missed  the  outer  line  of  Mrs.  King's  list 
of  invitations :  — 

"The  flowers  are  real,  and  she's  pretty  enough, 
but  she's  too  young  to  play  well.  They're  paying 
her  too  much  attention,  I  think." 

If  there  was  one  thing  that  Susie  loved  better 
than  another,  it  was  music,  and  her  teachers  had 
done  their  duty  by  her.  The  moment  her  fingers 
touched  the  keys,  they  felt  entirely  at  home,  and 
sent  back  word  to  her  that  they  would  play  any 
thing  she  could  remember.  Then  they  went  right 
on,  and  convinced  every  pair  of  ears  within  hearing 
that  they  were  skilfully  correct  about  it. 


WINTER  FLOWERS  AXD    THE  PARTY.         237 

"I  declare!"  exclaimed  Vosh  Stebbins  to  the  little 
knot  around  him,  "she  can  play  the  piano  better 
than  she  can  skate,  and  that's  saying  a  good  deal." 

The  young  folks  in  two  of  the  farther  rooms  were 
playing  forfeits,  and  missed  the  music,  but  the  prom- 
enaders  all  stood  still  for  a  few  minutes  and  lis- 
tened. It  was  just  like  the  flowers.  Nobody  else 
had  brought  any  thing  quite  so  nice,  and  there  was 
danger  that  Susie  would  be  unpopular.  As  it  was, 
she  had  no  sooner  risen  from  the  piano  than  Squire 
King  announced  that  supper  was  ready.  Vosh  had 
not  known  that  it  was  so  near,  and  was  compelled 
to  see  Adonijah  Bunce  offer  Susie  his  arm,  and  lead 
her  into  the  refreshment-room.  He  felt  that  he  had 
made  the  first  real  blunder  of  the  evening,  but  he 
was  wrong  about  it.  Adonijah  was  so  agitated  over 
his  success,  that  he  spilled  some  scalding  hot  coffee 
down  his  left  leg,  and  trod  on  Susie's  toes  in  conse- 
quence. He  made  her  exclaim,  "  Oh,  mercy !  "  and 
he  made  as  much  blood  go  into  his  own  face  as  it 
could  possibly  hold  at  the  moment  when  he  said 
"  Golly  !  "  and  bit  his  tongue  for  it. 

There  was  promenading  during  all  the  supper-time, 
and  some  music,  because  the  dining-room  would  not 
hold  them  all  at  once ;  but,  as  fast  as  the  young 
people  finished  and  came  out,  they  set  more  vigor- 
ously at  work  to  enjoy  themselves.  It  was  right 
there  that  the  young  people  of  Benton  Valley  began 


238  WINTER  FUN. 

to  forgive  Susie  Hudson  for  her  skating  and  her 
flowers  and  her  music,  and  for  being  a  city  girl. 
She  went  into  every  thing  with  such  heartiness,  that 
even  Adonijah  Bunce  began  to  feel  as  happy  as  his 
left  leg  would  let  him.  Still  he  was  the  only  young 
fellow  there  who  could  say  that  he  had  poured  hot 
coffee  on  himself,  if  that  could  be  called  distinction. 
Vosh  Stebbins  had  seen  him  do  it,  and  had  been 
more  at  ease  ever  since. 

Squire  King  and  his  wife  were  in  tremendous  good 
spirits  about  their  party,  and  they  had  a  right  to  be. 
Aunt  Judith  herself  told  them  it  was  the  nicest 
gathering  of  young  folks  that  there  had  ever  been  in 
Benton  ;  and  Pen  enjoyed  it  so  much,  that  at  last 
she  leaned  up  against  Mrs.  Keyser  on  the  sitting- 
room  lounge,  and  went  fast  asleep. 

It  was  all  over  at  last,  and  the  guests  went  home. 
Sleigh-load  after  sleigh-load  was  packed,  and  went 
jingling  away.  The  near-by  residents  marched  off 
as  they  had  come,  except  that  some  young  men  had 
more  to  take  care  of,  and  some  young  ladies  had 
other  young  gentlemen  than  their  own  brothers. 
Pen  went  to  sleep  again  in  the  sleigh,  and  her  father 
lifted  her  out  and  carried  her  into  the  house ;  and 
the  moment  she  waked  up  she  remarked, — 

"  He  gave  me  a  whole  paper  of  candy,  Susie,  and 
it  filled  my  muff  so  I  couldn't  get  my  hands  in." 

That  had  been  Squire  King's  work,  and  her  mother 
responded,  — 


WINTER  FLOWERS  AND    THE  PARTY.         239 

"  You're  going  to  bed  now,  and  so  is  Susie.  No 
candy  till  morning." 

At  that  very  moment  Mrs.  Stebbins  was  saying  to 
Vosh,  — 

"  I'm  glad  we're  home  again,  but  we've  had  a  good 
time.  She  did  look  well  in  them  flowers,  and  she 
just  can  play  the  piano ;  and  you  got  along  first-rate, 
Lavawjer;  and  I'm  glad  you  let  Nijah  Bunce  see 
her  in  to  supper,  and  wasn't  round  in  the  way  at 
no  time."  She  had  more  to  say;  but  it  was  a  very 
late  bed-time,  and  she  had  to  put  off  saying  it. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

THE    SNOW-FORT. 

THERE  was  a  large  amount  of  conversation  per- 
formed in  Benton  Valley  the  day  following  the 
party  at  Squire  King's.  It  began  before  breakfast. 
In  some  sleeping-rooms  it  began  before  people  were 
out  of  bed.  It  went  on  all  over  the  village ;  and  the 
whole  affair  was  discussed  at  the  drug-store,  and  in 
the  blacksmith-shop,  and  at  the  tavern.  It  is  safe  to 
say  that  every  thing  that  could  be  said  was  said  ;  and 
the  unanimous  verdict  was,  that  the  party  had  been 
a  success.  So  had  Susie  Hudson  been,  and  she  was 
not  omitted  from  a  single  description  of  the  com- 
pany. As  for  Adonijah  Bunce,  he  obtained  some 
liniment  of  his  mother  without  telling  her  just  where 
he  had  been  standing  when  he  spilt  the  coffee. 
Susie  knew  where  he  stepped  next ;  but  she  was  not 
very  lame,  and  felt  kindly  towards  Adonijah. 

Vosh  came  over  pretty  early  in  the  forenoon  to  see 

Port  and  Corry  upon  a  matter  of  some  importance. 
240 


THE  SNOW-FORT.  24! 

"  Snow-fort ! "  exclaimed  Porter  Hudson  a  little 
dignifiedly.  "  Don't  you  think  we're  a  little  too  old 
for  that  ? " 

"  Not  if  it's  finished  up  in  the  way  they  began  it," 
replied  Vosh.  "  They  went  at  it  after  school,  and  I 
guess  they  must  have  finished  it  this  morning.  We'll 
have  the  biggest  game  of  draw  you  ever  got  into, 
and  we  can  keep  it  up  all  day." 

"I'm  in  for  it,"  said  Corry ;  but  Port  had  really 
never  seen  any  snow  citadels,  nor  had  he  been  in  any 
game  of  draw.  He  remembered  reading  that  Bene- 
dict Arnold  mounted  his  cannon  on  a  snow-fort,  the 
better  to  pepper  Quebec,  but  he  had  a  dim  and  small 
opinion  of  such  matters.  Still  it  was  a  promise  of 
fun,  and  he  went  right  along.  The  weather  had 
been  growing  milder  for  two  days,  and  that  Saturday 
morning  the  sun  had  actually  risen  with  yellow  in 
his  face.  Deacon  Farnham  had  predicted  a  change 
in  the  weather  yet  to  come,  and  said  something  very 
deep  about  sap  in  trees,  and  of  how  he  must  watch 
it.  Port  could  not  imagine  any  method  of  watching 
the  movements  of  sap  in  trees,  or  any  reason  for 
caring  how  it  moved.  He  was  now  thinking  with 
increasing  interest  about  snowballs  and  their  uses, 
for  Vosh  explained  to  him  the  proposed  game  of 
"draw"  as  they  went  down  the  hill. 

"Three  to  one  is  fair  odds,"  he  said;  "and,  if  a 
fellow  gets  hit,  he  changes  sides.  I've  seen  a  fort 


242  WINTER  FUN. 

drawn  so  full,  they  had  half  of  'em  to  sit  down  ;  and 
the  last  fellow  out  had  no  chance  to  pick  up  a  snow- 
ball, for  dodging  what  they  gave  him.  It's  just  so  if 
there's  only  one  left  in  the  fort.  He  can  hardly 
show  his  head  without  having  one  of  his  ears  filled. 
The  snow'll  pack  first-rate  just  now.  It'll  stick 
together,  but  it  won't  make  too  hard  a  ball.  Wet 
snow'll  pack  into  a  wad  that  stings,  and  it'll  do  dam- 
age too,  sometimes." 

Port  remembered  something  about  that  from  even 
his  small  experience  in  the  city.  He  had  paid  for  a 
pane  of  glass  once. 

The  boys  of  Benton  Village  had  snowballed  a  great 
deal  that  winter.  They  had  grown  to  be  pretty  ex- 
pert marksmen,  and  their  dodging  qualities  had  im- 
proved. They  had  even  made  snow  breastworks  two 
or  three  times ;  but  their  ambition  in  that  direction 
had  recently  been  stimulated  by  a  picture  in  one  of 
the  illustrated  papers.  All  hands  had  agreed  that 
the  right  kind  of  a  fort  had  never  yet  been  built 
upon  that  green,  and  that  it  was  time  to  have  one. 
Snow  was  plentiful,  and  so  were  shovels ;  and,  so 
long  as  it  was  play,  there  were  boys  enough  to  do 
the  work,  hard  as  it  might  be.  They  made  it  square, 
and  the  walls  were  nearly  two  feet  thick.  They  were 
so  high  that  the  shorter  boys  complained  that  only 
their  heads  came  above  it. 

It  made  them  all  the  safer  in  a  game  of  draw,  and 


THE  SNOW-FORT.  243 

they  could  throw  nearly  as  well.  The  fort  was  not 
finished  on  Friday  evening,  because  so  many  of  the 
leading  boys  were  to  be  at  Mrs.  King's  party ;  but, 
by  the  time  Vosh  and  his  two  neighbors  got  there 
Saturday  forenoon,  they  were  beginning  to  draw  for 
sides. 

"There's  just  twenty-four  of  us,  Vosh,"  said  Adoni- 
jah  Bunce.  "That's  six  for  the  fort,  and  eighteen 
for  the  field,  to  begin  on.  Draw  your  cut  now,  and 
see  where  you  belong." 

"  There,"  said  Vosh  as  he  pulled  a  straw  from  the 
hand  extended  to  him  :  "  where  does  it  send  me  ? " 

"  Into  the  fort.  I'm  outside.  —  Now,  Corry,  you 
and  Port." 

They  drew,  and  discovered  that  they  also  were  out- 
siders, under  Capt.  Bunce ;  while  Vosh  was  to  com- 
mand the  fort  as  long  as  the  sharp  practice  should 
let  him  stay  there. 

"  It  begins  to  look  as  if  it  were  going  to  amount 
to  something,"  said  Port  to  himself,  when  it  was  ex- 
plained to  him  that  none  of  his  crowd  could  go  in 
beyond  a  certain  line  about  forty  feet  from  the 
snowy  wall,  nor  retreat  beyond  another  line  twice  as 
distant. 

Vosh  and  his  garrison  of  five  privates  were  inside 
the  fort  in  a  twinkling,  and  there  were  piles  of  snow- 
balls there  ready  for  use.  So  there  were  along  the 
lines  of  the  attacking  forces;  and  the  shout  of  "All 


244  WINTER  FUN. 

ready!"  had  hardly  been  uttered,  before  the  missiles 
began  to  fly. 

Porter  Hudson  was  determined  to  do  himself 
credit,  and  at  once  dashed  up  to  the  line,  throwing 
as  he  went. 

"  Pick  him,"  said  Vosh  to  his  men,  and  the  next 
instant  all  their  heads  came  in  sight  at  once.  Capt. 
Bunce's  force  was  well  enough  disciplined,  and  their 
volley  at  those  heads  was  prompt ;  but  six  balls  came 
straight  for  Porter  Hudson.  He  dodged  two,  and  one 
missed  him  widely  ;  but  another  lodged  in  his  neck, 
another  came  spat  against  his  waistband,  and  the 
sixth  took  off  his  hat. 

"  Called  in  ! "  shouted  Vosh,  and  Port  belonged  to 
the  garrison.  So,  in  a  few  moments  more,  did  three 
other  of  Capt.  Bunce's  marksmen  ;  but  he  had  played 
draw  before,  and  was  beginning  to  wake  up.  He 
divided  his  men,  scattering  them  all  around  the  fort, 
and  Port's  next  experience  came  to  him  in  that  way. 
A  random  ball  came  over  the  opposite  wall,  and 
landed  in  the  middle  of  his  back.  He  was  again  in 
the  field,  but  his  place  was  taken  by  the  young  man 
who  was  learning  to  play  the  flute.  Standing  still 
a  moment  to  warm  his  hands,  and  whistle,  a  pellet 
thrown  by  Corry  Farnham  had  broken  on  his  nose, 
and  spoiled  the  music.  The  fun  grew  fast  and  furi- 
ous, and  the  fort  was  steadily  gaining,  until  Vosh 
Stebbins  made  a  blunder.  He  saw  somebody  walk- 


THE  SNOW-FORT.  24$ 

ing  along  on  the  sidewalk  beyond  the  green,  but  did 
not  notice  who  they  were  till  Corry  remarked,  — 

"Halloo!  Aunt  Judith  and  Susie.  Guess  they're 
going  to  see  Mrs.  King.  Morning  call,  eh  ?  " 

The  attention  of  Capt.  Bunce  was  drawn  in  the 
same  direction  by  a  youth  who  said  to  him,  — 

"  There's  that  young  lady  from  New  York.  See 
her?" 

Adonijah  turned  to  do  so,  and  stood  still  long 
enough  for  Vosh  Stebbins  to  make  a  perfect  and 
undodging  mark  of  him.  The  ball  was  a  hard  one, 
and  it  struck  precisely  upon  the  liniment,  the  spot 
where  the  coffee  had  been.  Nijah  jumped,  but  he 
was  a  drawn  man  ;  and  so,  alas  for  the  fortunes 
of  that  fort !  was  Capt.  Stebbins.  He  too  stood 
still  too  long ;  and  he  was  bare-headed  now,  looking 
around  for  his  cap,  and  rubbing  his  red  right  ear, 
where  a  globe  of  well-packed  snow  had  landed  forci- 
bly. 

Susie  and  her  aunt  stood  still  for  some  minutes, 
watching  the  game,  without  the  least  idea  that  they 
had  any  thing  to  do  with  the  exchange  of  leaders. 
They  were  indeed  on  their  way  to  Mrs.  King's  ;  but 
aunt  Judith  had  other  errands,  or  she  would  have  let 
that  ceremony  wait. 

Vosh  had  been  studying  war  all  that  morning,  and 
he  was  hardly  among  the  outsiders  before  he  tried  a 
new  plan  of  attack. 


246  M' INTER  FUN. 

"Now,  boys,"  he  shouted,  "you  do  as  I  tell  you. 
Take  the  corners,  —  half  of  us  against  the  corner 
this  way,  and  half  against  the  opposite  corner ;  and 
they'll  have  to  kind  o'  bunch  up  to  throw  back, 
and  you're  bound  to  hit  somebody.  Make  a  lot  of 
balls,  and  get  good  and  ready,  and  we'll  empty  that 
fort." 

It  worked  very  much  in  that  way.  The  defenders  of 
the  fort  were  drawn  carelessly  towards  the  corners, 
under  a  raking  fire.  The  pellets  flew  over  among 
them  thick  and  fast ;  and  in  less  than  three  minutes 
Coriolanus  Farnham  stood  alone,  the  entire  garrison 
of  the  frosty  fortress.  He  stood  in  a  bending  pos- 
ture, against  the  inner  face  of  a  wall,  while  all  around 
him  flew  the  snowballs  that  were  searching  for  him. 
He  was  a  forlorn  hope,  but  he  meant  to  stick  it 
out.  He  even  rose  suddenly  to  return  the  volleys 
with  a  solitary  shot.  He  threw,  but  so  did  twenty- 
three  assailants  from  various  directions  ;  and  Nijuh 
Bunce  had  waited,  with  a  knowledge  of  his  where- 
abouts. 

"  Called  out !  "  shouted  Vosh.  "  What  are  you 
rubbing  for,  Corry  ?  " 

"Got  hit  all  over." 

"Game's  up,"  said  Nijah.  "Now,  boys,  we'll 
choose  over  again." 

"  Not  till  I've  had  a  rest,"  said  Corry ;  and  Port 
remarked,  — 


THE  SNOW-FORT.  247 

"I'll  hold  on.  My  arm's  too  lame  to  throw  an- 
other ball." 

So  was  every  other  arm  among  them,  by  the  time 
they  had  emptied  that  fort  again ;  but  it  was  voted 
the  best  snowballing  of  the  season. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

THE  SUGAR-BUSH  AND  THE  BEAR. 

THE  winter  days  went  swiftly  on,  with  constant 
repetitions  of  chess  and  fireside  comfort  in  evenings, 
and  snowballing,  skating,  sleigh-rides,  and  other  fun 
whenever  the  circumstances  permitted.  There  were 
frequent  and  long  letters  from  the  South,  and  other 
and  shorter  letters  from  the  city.  A  pretty  steady 
comparison  of  climates  could  be  made  from  time  to 
time,  and  there  was  no  small  interest  in  that.  Susie 
and  Port  became  as  well  known  in  Benton  Village  as 
if  they  had  been  residents,  and  at  least  a  dozen  of 
the  young  ladies  they  knew  had  learned  to  skate. 
Old  Miss  Turner,,  the  dressmaker,  tried  it ;  but  she 
told  her  friends  that  she  tore  her  dress  and  spoiled 
her  bonnet  for  nothing,  and  she  wouldn't  bump  the 
back  of  her  head  in  that  way  any  more. 

"Aunt    Sarah!"    suddenly   exclaimed    Susie   one 
afternoon,  when  she  had  just  finished  reading  a  letter 
from  Florida,  "  mother  says  she  is  as  well  as  ever, 
and  that,  now  spring  is  coming"  — 
243 


THE  SUGAR-BUSH  AND    THE  BEAR.  249 

"  Spring !  Why,  it's  hardly  beyond  the  end  of 
February  yet.  The  winter' 11  hold  on  till  April,  and 
maybe  till  nigh  the  end  of  it." 

"Well,  away  down  there  they've  had  real  warm 
weather." 

"  Now,  Susie,  you  sit  right  down  and  write  to  her 
that  the  snow's  three  feet  deep  on  a  level,  and  she 
mustn't  dream  of  running  the  risk  of  her  health  in 
coming  North  till  May." 

"  Spring'll  come  earlier  in  the  city  than  it  will  up 
here,  aunt  Sarah.  You  can't  think  how  I  want  to 
see  her." 

Port  was  listening,  and  he  drew  a  long  breath ;  but 
he  said  nothing,  and  looked  very  hard  out  of  the 
window  at  the  endless  reaches  of  snow.  They  were 
there,  but  the  long  cold  "snap"  was  unmistakably 
over.  It  was  after  supper,  that  very  evening,  that 
Deacon  Farnham  remarked  to  his  wife,  — 

"  Sarah,  the  sun's  been  pretty  warm  on  the  trees, 
and  the  sap'll  be  running.  I  must  be  getting  ready. 
I  mean  to  have  the  biggest  kind  of  a  sugaring  this 
year." 

"  I'm  glad  of  it,  Joshua.  It'll  be  something  for 
the  young  folks  too.  I'm  half  afraid  Susie's  begin- 
ning to  be  homesick." 

"Nonsense,"  said  aunt  Judith  ;  "but  of  course  she 
wants  to  see  her  mother.  She  and  Port  are  doin' 
something  or  other  all  the  while.  It's  been  just  one 


2$O  WINTER  FUN. 

jump  with  'cm,  and  they've  had  a  good  time.  They 
read  a  good  deal,  too ;  and  Port  shot  two  more  rab- 
bits only  yesterday,  and  carried  'em  over  to  Mrs. 
Stebbins." 

The  city  cousins  had  indeed  had  a  good  time ;  but 
they  did  not  tell  anybody  how  glad  they  were  to  see 
the  sun  climbing  higher,  and  to  feel  sure  that  spring 
was  nearer. 

The  increasing  sun-power  was  settling  and  packing 
the  drifts ;  and  the  bitter  nights  were  all  that  wit- 
nessed, for  about  a  week,  to  the  remaining  strength 
of  the  winter.  The  sap  began  to  run,  as  the  deacon 
said  it  would,  and  he  was  fully  ready  for  it.  His 
sugar  harvest  was  to  be  gathered  among  the  maple- 
trees  on  the  south-lying  slope,  near  the  spot  where 
he  had  done  most  of  his  chopping.  There  were 
trees  there  of  the  right  sort,  in  great  plenty,  —  great 
towering  old  fellows  that  could  well  afford  to  lose  a 
little  sap. 

"Judith,"  said  Mrs.  Farnham,  while  her  husband 
was  at  the  barn  loading  his  wood-sleigh  with  the 
things  he  would  need  at  the  sugar-bush,  "we  must 
have  the  sewing  society  meet  at  our  house  right  in 
sugaring-time." 

"It'll  be  the  very  thing  to  do,  and  I'm  glad  you 
thought  of  it.  Only  it'll  take  a  gpod  deal  of  sugar 
to  sweeten  some  of  "em." 

There  was  more  to  be  said;  but  Port  and  Susie 


THE  SUGAR-BUSH  AND    THE  BEAR.  2$l 

had  no  share  in  the  discussion,  for  they  hurried  out 
to  the  sleigh,  and  were  quickly  on  their  way  to  the 
woods.  They  had  already  learned  that  a  hundred 
tall  maples,  more  or  less,  with  holes  bored  into  their 
sides,  and  with  wooden  "  spiles  "  driven  into  the  holes, 
were  thereby  transformed  into  a  "bush." 

The  deacon  made  the  boys  leave  their  guns  at 
home,  as  he  had  work  for  them  to  do ;  but  Vosh 
joined  them  when  they  passed  his  house,  and  he 
carried  his  double-barrel  on  his  shoulder.  He  was 
laughed  at  a  little,  but  he  said  there  was  no  telling 
when  he  might  find  a  use  for  it. 

It  was  a  bright  and  sunny  day,  but  there  had  been 
no  real  thaw  as  yet.  The  crust  had  settled  with  the 
snow,  and  was  still  firm  enough  for  the  workers  to 
walk  from  tree  to  tree. 

The  first  business  was  to  tap  as  many  as  the 
deacon  thought  he  could  attend  to ;  and  the  boys  had 
enough  to  do  in  carrying  from  the  sleigh  the  wooden 
troughs,  and  placing  them  where  they  would  catch 
the  steady  drip,  drip,  from  the  sap-spiles. 

"They'll  fill  pretty  fast,"  said  the  deacon.  "We've 
got  some  evening  collecting  before  us,  or  I'm  mis- 
taken. We  must  have  some  kettles  up  as  soon  as 
we  can." 

He  and  Vosh  and  the  hired  man  went  right  at  it, 
and  the  deacon  declared  that  he  would  have  two 
more  hands  from  the  village  the  next  day.  Susie 


252  iriXTKR   FUN. 

and  Pea  went  with  them,  and  stood  watching  the 
process. 

"It's  easy  enough,"  said  Pen,  as  she  saw  them 
struggling  with  one  of  the  great  iron  kettles. 

Two  strong  forked  stakes  were  driven  down  in 
convenient  places,  at  about  eight  feet  apart.  A  stout 
pole  was  laid  across  each  pair  of  stakes,  resting  in 
the  forks.  A  kettle  was  swung  upon  each  cross-pole 
in  due  season,  but  only  three  had  been  brought  that 
morning.  Then  all  was  ready  for  building  a  fire 
under  the  kettle,  and  beginning  to  make  sugar. 

"  Won't  the  snow  melt  under  it  ? "  asked  Susie. 
"Won't  it  put  out  the  fire  ?  " 

"You'll  see,"  said  Vosh.  "Of  course  the  snow 
melts  on  top,  and  sinks,  and  we  keep  pitching  on 
bark  and  stuff,  and  the  ashes  are  there.  The  water 
runs  off  through  the  snow,  and  all  the  stuff  gets 
packed  hard,  and'll  bear  as  much  fire  as  you  can 
build  on  it.  It  makes  a  cake,  and  freezes  nights,  and 
those  cakes'll  be  the  last  things  around  here  that 
melt  in  spring." 

He  was  aching  to  get  a  bucket  of  sap  into  that 
first  kettle,  and  a  fire  under  it,  so  he  could  show  her 
how  it  worked  ;  but  the  other  kettles  had  to  be  set 
up  first.  It  was  well  that  there  should  be  enough  of 
them  to  take  the  sap  as  it  came,  so  that  nobody  need 
be  tempted  to  throw  cold  sap  into  boiling  sirup  at 
the  wrong  time.  A  barrel  was  brought  up  after- 


THE  SUGAR-BUSH  AND    THE  BEAR.  253 

wards,  to  hold  any  surplus  that  a  kettle  was  not 
ready  for. 

While  the  workers  at  the  sugar-bush  were  push- 
ing forward  their  preparations,  Susie  and  Port  were 
learning  a  great  deal  about  maple-sugar  processes. 
They  could  not  help  remembering  all  they  knew 
about  other  kinds  of  sugar.  At  the  same  time 
there  was  much  activity  at  the  farmhouse.  Aunt 
Judith  put  on  her  things,  as  soon  as  she  could  spare 
the  time  for  it,  and  went  over  to  consult  with  Mrs. 
Stebbins.  Then  they  both  came  back  to  see  Mrs. 
Farnham ;  and  all  three  wrapped  up,  and  made  the 
quickest  kind  of  a  walk  to  the  village.  They  made 
several  short  calls  separately,  and,  when  they  came 
together  again,  Mrs.  Stebbins  announced  the  result 
triumphantly,  — 

"We've  set  the  ball  a-rollin'.  Elder  Evans'll  give 
it  out  in  meeting  this  evening.  All  the  rest  of  'em'll 
send  word,  and  he'll  give  it  out  again  on  Sunday.  If 
we  don't  have  your  house  full  next  Tuesday,  I'm  all 
out  in  my  count." 

Sugar-making  in  a  large  "  bush  "  is  not  a  business 
to  be  finished  up  in  a  day  or  two.  The  weather 
grew  better  and  better  for  it,  and  Deacon  Farnham's 
extra  "hands"  were  kept  at  it  most  industriously. 
Tuesday  came,  and  Mrs.  Stebbins  was  not  at  all  out 
in  her  count.  The  house  began  to  look  lively  even 
before  noon.  Squire  King  and  his  wife  came  just 


254  WINTER  FUN. 

after  dinner,  and  their  sleigh  could  not  have  held 
one  more  passenger.  It  went  right  back  for  some 
more.  It  was  curious,  too,  considering  that  every- 
body knew  all  about  sugaring.  Old  or  young,  hardly 
any  of  them  were  contented  until  they  had  paid  a 
visit  to  the  "bush,"  and  drunk  some  sap.  Some  of 
the  younger  people  seemed  very  much  inclined  to 
stay  there. 

"  There  won't  be  any  great  amount  of  sewing  done 
for  the  poor  heathen,"  remarked  one  good  old  lady, 
with  a  lump  of  maple-sugar  in  one  hand,  and  a  krullcr 
in  the  other.  "What's  more,  all  their  appetitcs'll  be 
spiled,  and  they  won't  enjoy  eatin'  any  thing." 

Some  afterwards  seemed  really  to  have  suffered 
that  injury,  but  not  the  majority,  by  any  means. 
The  later  arrivals,  especially,  came  hungry.  All  the 
latter  part  of  that  afternoon  seemed  to  be  one  pretty 
steady-going  dinner  or  supper.  The  ladies  of  the 
society  poured  right  out  into  the  kitchen  to  help 
aunt  Judith,  till  she  begged  that  no  more  should 
come  at  once  than  could  stand  around  the  stove. 

It  was  well  that  there  should  be  a  sugar-bush,  or 
some  sort  of  excitement,  to  keep  a  part  of  that  gath- 
ering out  of  doors.  The  house  was  full  enough  at 
all  times ;  and  before  sunset  the  knots  of  merry 
people  scattered  around  among  the  maple-trees  and 
kettles  discovered  why  Vosh  Stebbins  had  persisted 
in  carrying  his  gun  out  there  every  day  since  the 
work  began. 


THE  SUGAR-BUSH  AND    THE  BEAR.  2$$ 

Vosh  had  dreamed  of  such  a  thing,  and  had  been 
almost  half  afraid  of  it ;  but  he  had  hoped  in  his 
heart  that  it  might  come,  and  the  peaceful  course  of 
events  had  disappointed  him.  He  was  getting  ready 
to  start  for  the  house  that  day,  gun  and  all,  when  he 
heard  somebody  scream,  away  up  near  the  farthest 
clump  of  sugar-trees,  — 

"  Bear,  bear,  bear  !    There's  a  bear  drinking  sap  !  " 

Ever  so  many  voices  were  raised  at  once  to  an- 
nounce to  everybody  the  arrival  of  that  ferocious  wild 
animal,  recently  waked  from  his  winter's  nap.  They 
told  of  the  dreadful  thing  he  was  doing,  and  sug- 
gested other  dreadful  things  that  he  might  do.  He 
might  eat  up  the  society. 

"They  generally  come  at  night,"  said  the  deacon 
calmly,  "  but  they  are  very  apt  to  visit  a  sugar-bush. 
They're  fond  of  sap." 

"Where's  Susie?  Where's  Pen?"  exclaimed  Vosh. 
Then  he  remembered  that  they  and  a  whole  party 
of  village  girls  were  up  there  near  those  very  trees, 
and  he  ran  as  if  his  life  depended  on  it. 

"  Steady,  Vosh.     Not  so  fast.     I'm  a-coming." 

There  was  the  deacon  panting  behind  him,  axe  in 
hand ;  and  behind  him  was  the  hired  man  with  his 
axe,  and  away  behind  him  were  three  or  four  sturdy 
farmers  following  with  no  better  weapons  than  sled- 
stakes. 

Port  and  Corry  were  with  the  girls,  and  it  had 


256  WINTER  FUN. 

been  a  wonder  how  quickly  the  last  girl  and  boy  to 
be  seen  had  gotten  behind  a  tree.  They  were  all 
now  peering  out  for  a  look  at  the  bear,  and  Penelope 
declared  of  him,  — 

"  He's  the  largest  bear  in  the  world.    He's  awful ! " 

Not  all  of  them  were  where  they  could  see  him, 
and  he  was  making  no  effort  at  all  to  see  them,  but 
his  offence  was  that  he  had  come.  No  doubt  but 
he  had  been  a  little  scared  at  first,  when  the  girls 
began  to  scream  ;  but  he  was  hungry  and  thirsty, 
and  he  was  fond  of  sap,  and  he  took  courage.  There 
were  all  those  troughs  ready  for  him,  and  he  could 
not  think  of  going  away  without  a  good  drink. 

Besides,  the  bear  could  not  see  that  any  of  those 
young  ladies  seemed  disposed  to  come  any  nearer, 
and  he  had  not  been  introduced  to  one  of  them.  So 
he  overcame  any  bashfulness,  and  put  his  nose  into 
another  sap-trough,  and  it  was  empty  in  a  twinkling. 
He  served  another  in  the  same  way,  and  was  going 
ahead  quite  contentedly,  nearer  and  nearer  the  girls 
that  were  afraid  to  run.  At  least  half  a  dozen  were 
braver,  and  ran  remarkably  well  towards  the  kettles. 
Port  and  Corry,  behind  their  trees,  were  longing  for 
all  sorts  of  weapons,  when  they  saw  something  well 
worth  seeing. 

The  bear  stood  still  suddenly ;  for  a  dark-eyed, 
plucky-looking  boy,  with  something  in  his  hands, 
stood  right  in  the  way. 


THE  SUGAR-BUSH  AND    THE  BEAR. 


"What  are  you  loaded  with,  Vosh?"  shouted  the 
deacon.  "  Nothing  but  buckshot  ?  It's  risky." 

"Buckshot,  and  two  slugs  in  each  barrel." 

"  That's  better.  He's  turned  a  little.  Take  him 
in  the  shoulder." 

"  Bang,  bang  !  "  was  the  reply  made  by  the  gun. 
It  was  close  work,  and  not  many  of  the  leaden  mis- 
siles wandered  from  their  broad  black  target. 

The  bear  was  mortally  wounded,  but  he  instantly 
gathered  his  remaining  strength  for  a  charge.  The 
furiously  angry  growl  he  gave  sent  a  thrill  and  chill 
through  all  the  bones  of  the  scattered  spectators. 

Right  past  Vosh  at  that  moment  sprang  the  dea- 
con ;  and  he  met  the  bear  halfway,  like  the  brave 
old  borderer  that  he  was.  He  was  a  master-hand 
with  an  axe,  and  its  keen  edge  fell  with  a  thud 
squarely  between  the  eyes  of  the  ferocious  animal. 
It  sank  in  as  if  the  bear's  head  had  been  the  side  of 
a  hickory,  and  there  was  no  need  of  any  second  blow. 

The  bear  was  dead  ;  and  all  the  sugar  makers  and 
eaters  could  cluster  around  and  make  remarks  upon 
him,  and  praise  Vosh  Stebbins  and  the  deacon. 

"  Pen  !  "  exclaimed  Susie,  "  what  will  his  mother 
say  of  him  now  ?  " 

"Why,  they'll  skin  him,  and  it'll  make  the  beauti- 
fullest  kind  of  a  buffalo-robe." 

Pen  was  thinking  of  the  bear  only  ;  and  Vosh  had 
at  once  reloaded  and  shouldered  his  gun,  and  walked 


258  WINTER  FUN. 

away.  He  was  ready  for  another  bear,  but  felt 
pretty  sure  that  none  would  come.  Port  and  Corry 
gave  up  going  to  the  house  for  guns  and  coming 
back  again,  and  all  the  young  ladies  seemed  to  think 
it  must  be  near  supper-time.  They  carried  the  news 
to  Mrs.  Stebbins,  and  it  was  all  but  provoking  that 
she  should  take  it  very  much  as  a  matter  of  course. 
If  any  bear  came  to  be  killed,  it  was  as  natural  as  life 
that  her  boy  should  kill  him.  He  was  a  young  fellow 
from  whom  uncommon  things  were  to  be  commonly 
expected 

After  the  adventure  with  the  bear,  the  sewing 
society  was  a  greater  success  than  before.  It  went 
right  on  until  late  into  the  evening,  but  the  success 
of  it  was  not  in  the  sewing  that  was  done.  The 
only  heathen  for  whom  much  was  accomplished  was 
probably  the  bear  himself. 

Susie  Hudson  said  to  her  brother  at  last,  "  I  don't 
care,  Port,  it  beats  a  city  party  all  to  pieces.  There's 
ever  so  much  more  real  enjoyment.  I  want  to  live 
in  the  country." 

"  Oh,  well,  I  like  it  in  winter.  It's  well  enough. 
You've  been  out  here  in  summer  too." 

"  It's  twice  as  good  then." 

"  No,  Susie,  it  can't  be.  It  must  be  all  hard  work 
in  summer.  But  think  of  the  fun  we've  had  !  " 

She  did  ;  and  late  in  tlje  evening  Vosh  Stebbins 
stepped  up  to  her,  and  whispered,  — 


THE  SUGAR-BUSH  AND    THE  BEAR.  2$$ 

"  May  I  see  you  home  ?  The  cutter's  waiting  at 
the  door.  All  the  rest  are  getting  ready  to  start." 

"I've  got  to  say  good-by  to  them  all,  I  suppose." 

"  Go  round  and  say  it  now.  I  don't  want  to 
sleigh-ride  anybody  else.  They've  all  got  company." 

That  was  the  reason  why,  a  little  afterwards,  Vosh 
Stebbins's  mother  could  not  find  him.  He  and  Susie 
were  jingling  over  the  snow  behind  the  sorrel  colt, 
and  it  was  a  long  way  home  before  they  returned  to 
the  house. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

THE   FLOOD   AND   THE   END. 

IT  was  well  for  all  who  were  fond  of  sleighing, 
to  make  the  best  use  of  their  time.  A  great  many 
people  had  had  enough,  and  were  even  eager  to  see 
the  snow  depart.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  it  to  go, 
and  the  weather  took  an  unexpected  part  in  the  mat- 
ter. The  sun  came  out  with  a  power  that  had  in  it 
something  peculiar,  and  made  all  human  beings  feel 
drowsy,  heavy,  listless,  and  disposed  to  take  boneset- 
tea.  The  older  they  were,  the  more  black  and  bitter 
was  the  boneset  they  called  for ;  and  aunt  Judith 
manufactured  some  uncommonly  good  root-beer  to 
go  with  it.  So  far  as  the  young  people  were  con- 
cerned, the  root-beer  went  much  more  rapidly  than 
the  boneset. 

Then  arrived  two  whole  days  of  warm  and  heavy 
rain  ;  and,  when  the  sun  came  out  again,  he  had  an 
altered  landscape  to  look  down  upon.  All  the  hill- 
sides were  streaming  with  torrents  of  water,  and 
260 


THE  FLOOD  AND    THE  END.  26 1 

every  hollow  was  a  pond.  The  roads  were  channels 
of  temporary  rivulets,  and  the  river  in  the  valley  had 
swollen  until  its  fetters  were  breaking.  The  ice  in 
the  mill-pond  cracked  and  lifted  until  the  water 
broke  out  over  the  dam.  That  relieved  the  pressure 
for  a  few  hours,  until  the  huge  cakes  of  ice  got  in  a 
hurry,  and  began  to  climb  upon  each  others'  shoul- 
ders. They  rapidly  built  up  a  dam  of  their  own, 
right  on  top  of  the  old  one,  and  the  water  sent  back 
up  stream  for  more  ice.  As  fast  as  the  new  supplies 
came  down,  they  were  heaped  up,  right  and  left  and 
centre ;  and  no  engineer  could  have  done  the  work 
better,  so  far  as  increasing  the  size  of  the  mill-pond 
was  concerned.  It  grew  tremendously,  and  the  sun 
toiled  at  the  snowbanks  on  the  hillsides,  all  along  the 
banks  of  that  river,  away  up  into  the  mountains,  to 
send  down  more  snow-water  for  the  big  spread  in 
Benton  Valley. 

"  Sarah,"  said  Deacon  Farnham  at  about  the  mid- 
dle of  the  second  forenoon,  "  if  this  thing  keeps  on, 
it'll  drown  out  the  village." 

"  Has  the  water  got  there  yet  ? "  she  asked.  "  Is 
it  rising  ? " 

"  Rising !  Guess  it  is.  I'll  hitch  up  the  team 
after  dinner,  and  we'll  go  and  take  a  look  at  it." 

When  Pen  and  Corry  came  home  at  noon,  they 
reported  that  school  was  dismissed  for  the  day ;  and 
Pen  explained  it,  — 


262  ll'I.YTKR  FUN. 

"  She  said  the  Flood  was  coming  again,  but  I 
don't  believe  it  is." 

"Not  Noah's  Flood,"  said  her  father;  "but 
enough  might  come  to  carry  away  the  schoolhouse. 
I  can't  say  what  they're  going  to  do  about  it." 

The  story  Vosh  told  at  home  brought  Mrs.  Steb- 
bins  over  after  dinner,  and  there  was  a  full  sleigh- 
load  driven  down  to  see  the  sights. 

Susie  and  Port  were  to  have  one  more  experience 
of  winter  life  in  the  country,  and  it  was  one  they 
would  not  have  missed  for  any  thing.  The  mill- 
pond  was  away  below  the  village,  and  there  was 
another  up  towards  Cobbleville  that  was  said  to  be 
nearly  as  badly  off.  •  As  the  water  had  risen,  it  had 
set  back  and  back,  until  now  the  low-lying  lands  were 
a  great  lake  with  houses  and  barns  sticking  up  from 
it.  Deacon  Farnham  drove  on  down  towards  the 
village,  and  all  the  tongues  in  the  sleigh  grew  more 
and  more  silent.  Aunt  Judith  had  already  told  all 
there  was  to  tell  about  the  great  flood  when  she  was 
a  girl,  and  when  they  had  to  live  without  flour  or 
meal.  The  story  sounded  much  more  real  now,  for 
the  first  man  they  met  said  to  them, — 

"  If  the  ice  goes  on  packing  up  there  at  the  dam, 
the  mill  and  all  will  break  away  before  midnight." 

"Are  they  trying  to  do  any  thing  to  loosen  the 
pack  ?  "  asked  Vosh. 

"  They  can't  get  at  it  to  pick  at  it,  and  it's  wuth 


THE  FLOOD  AND    THE  END.  263 

any  man's  life  to  try.  The  water's  in  the  main 
street  now." 

"What  if  the  upper  dam  should  give  way?"  asked 
the  deacon. 

"Well,  if  the  ice  there  and  the  dam  should  give 
way  all  at  once,  and  come  down  in  a  heap,  there 
wouldn't  be  much  left  of  Benton." 

They  drove  on  down  the  road  to  the  right,  towards 
what  had  been  the  lower  level  of  the  coasting-hill, 
where  the  sleds  darted  out  upon  the  pond.  They 
could  see  the  whole  thing  now,  and  the  long  ridge 
of  ice  with  the  flood  surging  and  rising  against  it, 
and  filling  up  every  lower  place  with  fresh  material. 
The  water  was  still  pouring  over  the  pack  at  the 
upper  dam,  the  deacon  said,  or  no  more  ice  and  snow 
would  be  coming  down. 

"  Mr.  Farnham  !  "  suddenly  exclaimed  Vosh  Steb- 
bins,  "  I  wish  I  had  money  enough  to  pay  for  a  keg 
of  blasting-powder." 

"What  for,  Vosh?" 

"  Don't  you  see  ?  You  can  get  to  the  second 
floor  of  the  mill,  right  across  those  logs.  If  a  keg 
of  powder  could  be  shoved  out  on  the  pack,  and  left 
there  with  a  slow-match  burning,  I  could  get  back 
before  it  went  off." 

"  I'll  pay  for  the  powder,"  said  the  deacon  as  he 
turned  his  team  towards  the  village,  and  Mrs.  Steb- 
bins  gasped, — 


264  WINTER  FUN. 

"OVosh!     Lavawjer!" 

She  sat  still,  and  looked  a  little  white  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  the  color  came  to  her  face,  and  there 
was  a  sort  of  flash  in  her  eyes  as  she  said  slowly  and 
steadily,  — 

"Just  you  try  it  on.  Your  father  would  have 
done  it  any  day.  Levi  Stebbins  was  a  soldier,  and 
he  never  flinched  any  thing  in  all  his  life." 

"Joshaway,"  said  aunt  Judith  with  a  bit  of  a 
tremor  in  her  voice,  "  I  want  to  pay  for  that  powder 
myself.  He  can  buy  two  kegs  if  he  needs  'em." 

The  water  was  nearly  a  foot  deep  in  front  of 
Rosenstein's  store  when  the  sleigh  came  splashing 
along.  The  whole  village  was  boiling  with  excite- 
ment, in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  flood  was  all  of 
ice-water. 

"Powder?  Going  to  blow  up  dot  ice?"  said  Mr. 
Rosenstein  doubtfully  ;  but  he  hurried  to  bring  out 
a  keg  of  it,  and  a  long  line  of  fuze. 

"  Now,  Vosh.  No  time  to  lose.  You  mustn't  run 
any  needless  risk,  but  I  believe  you  can  do  it.  I'll 
go  as  far  as  into  the  mill  with  you." 

"Joshua,"  said  Mrs.  Farnham,  "will  he  need  help? 
His  weight's  a  good  deal  lighter  than  yours." 

"  We'll  see  about  it  when  we  get  there.  That 
pack  has  got  to  be  broken  :  so  has  the  one  at  the 
upper  dam." 

They  were  once  more  on  the  hill-road,  and  ncaring 


THE  FLOOD  AND    THE  END.  26$ 

the  point  of  danger.  Great  piles  of  saw-logs,  ready 
for  the  saw-mill,  had  accumulated  on  the  slope  be- 
tween the  mill  and  what  was  now  the  shore ;  and 
already  quite  a  number  of  adventurers  had  crossed 
upon  them  to  the  building  itself,  and  back  again. 
Not  a  soul  had  cared  to  remain  more  than  a  minute, 
and  none  had  ventured  beyond. 

"Go,  Joshua,"  said  Mrs.  Farnham.  "He'll  need 
advice,  if  he  doesn't  need  any  thing  else." 

Corry  took  the  reins,  and  his  father  and  Vosh 
stepped  out.  There  were  thirty  or  forty  men  and 
boys  standing  around  and  watching  the  flood,  and  all 
were  eager  to  know  what  was  coming ;  but  the  an- 
swers given  them  had  a  short,  gruff  sound,  as  if 
uttered  by  somebody  too  much  in  earnest  to  talk. 

"  Right  along,  Vosh,"  said  the  deacon.  "The  logs 
are  firm  enough." 

So  they  were,  and  it  was  easy  to  climb  through 
an  open  window  into  the  second  story  of  the  mill. 
Through  all  the  lower  floor  the  water  was  rushing 
and  gurgling,  and  the  building  shook  all  over  as  if  it 
were  chilly. 

An  opposite  window  was  reached,  and  there  before 
them  was  the  ice-pack.  Only  at  one  point,  beyond 
the  centre,  was  there  any  water  going  over  it ;  and  it 
seemed  only  too  strong  and  solid. 

"  As  far  out  as  you  can,  Vosh,"  said  the  deacon. 
"  Put  it  into  a  hole  of  some  kind,  if  you  can." 


266  WINTER  FUN. 

Without  a  word  of  comment  or  reply,  the  brave 
boy  crept  through  the  window,  and  let  himself  down 
upon  the  ice,  and  the  keg  was  handed  him. 

"  Use  the  whole  length  of  the  fuze,"  said  the  dea- 
con. "  You'll  have  time  enough." 

"Mr.  Farnham,"  said  Vosh,  "you  go  back  right 
away,  now." 

"  I  don't  know  but  what  it's  my  duty.  Do  yours 
quick,  Vosh." 

He  was  every  way  disposed  to  obey  that  sugges- 
tion. The  roar  of  the  waters,  the  strange  sensation 
of  the  presence  of  great  peril,  and  even  the  idea  that 
so  many  people  were  looking  at  him,  made  the  situa- 
tion one  from  which  he  was  in  a  hurry  to  get  away. 
Nearly  in  the  middle  of  the  pack  he  came  to  a  deep 
crevice  between  the  heaps  of  glimmering  ice,  and 
into  it  he  lowered  his  little  barrel  of  explosive  meal. 
He  had  made  it  all  ready,  fixing  the  end  of  the  fuze 
in  its  proper  place,  and  now  he  led  the  line  back  over 
comparatively  dry  ice. 

"Nothing  to  put  it  out,"  he  muttered ;  "and  they 
said  it  was  water-proof,  anyhow." 

A  stream  of  people,  on  foot  and  in  sleighs,  had 
followed  that  undertaking  from  the  moment  when 
the  news  of  it  began  to  buzz  around  the  village,  and 
a  full  hundred  had  now  gathered  on  the  slope  oppo- 
site the  mill.  They  saw  Vosh  Stebbins  scratch  a 
match  on  his  coat-sleeve,  and  stoop  down ;  and  then 


THE  FLOOD  AND    THE  END.  267 

they  saw  him  turn,  and  walk  swiftly  away  towards 
the  mill. 

"It's  all  right,  deacon!"  he  shouted.  "She's 
a-burning ! " 

"  Come  on,  Vosh.  Hurry  up.  I  just  couldn't  go 
ashore  till  you  got  back." 

Vosh  replied  with  a  ringing  laugh  that  had  a 
world  of  excitement  in  it.  He  followed  the  deacon 
back  through  the  mill,  and  across  the  perilous  bridge 
of  floating  logs  ;  and  there  on  the  shore  stood  Susie 
Hudson,  and  her  aunts,  and  his  mother,  but  Penel- 
ope was  the  only  one  who  said  any  thing. 

"Vosh,"  she  asked,  "did  you  lose  all  your  powder 
and  your  string?" 

"Guess  I  have,"  replied  he ;  and  then  it  was  Ado- 
nijah  Bunce  who  remarked, — 

"  Didn't  quite  do  it,  did  ye  ? " 

"Hold  on  a  minute,"  said  Mr.  Farnham.  "It  was 
a  long  fuze." 

It  seemed  as  if  everybody  held  their  breaths  till  it 
must  hurt  them;  but,  just  when  they  could  not  do  it 
any  longer,  a  great  sheet  of  smoke  and  flame  shot 
up  from  the  middle  of  the  ice-pack.  It  was  followed 
by  a  dull,  heavy  report,  and  by  flying  fragments 
of  ice. 

Had  it  accomplished  any  thing  ?  —  that  was  the 
question  in  all  minds  ;  but  it  was  only  a  moment 
before  there  was  another  crash,  and  another.  The 


268  WINTER  FUN. 

• 

barrier  had  been  blown  away  to  such  a  thinness  that 
the  pressure  from  above  was  sufficient  to  break  it 
through.  The  flood  rushed  forward  into  the  widen- 
ing channel  with  a  surge  and  a  plunge,  and  away 
went  the  river  again,  roaring  down  its  half-deserted 
bed  below.  More  of  the  cakes  of  ice  to  the  right 
and  left,  now  no  longer  wedged  and  self-supporting, 
were  swiftly  torn  away,  and  the  gap  so  opened  could 
not  be  closed  again. 

"I  just  knew  he'd  do  it,"  said  Mrs.  Stebbins 
proudly,  as  the  round  of  cheers  died  away  after  the 
explosion  and  crash.  "  His  father  would  ha'  done 
it." 

There  were  plenty  to  congratulate  Vosh  ;  but  he 
and  the  rest  got  into  the  sleigh  again,  and  drove 
back  towards  the  village.  Even  before  they  reached 
it,  the  waters  were  manifestly  receding  a  little,  and, 
when  they  again  stopped  in  front  of  Mr.  Rosenstein's 
store,  it  was  pretty  well  understood  that  the  first 
peril  was  over. 

"  Now  for  the  pack  at  the  upper  dam  ! "  shouted 
the  deacon.  "It's  safe  to  make  a  hole  in  it,  now  our 
pack  is  broken.  —  I  want  to  pay  for  that  powder, 
Mr.  Rdsenstein.  I  was  in  such  a  hurry,  I  forgot  it." 

"Dot's  joost  vot  I  did,"  replied  the  merchant. 
"  You  bays  for  no  powder  for  dot  boy.  He  safe  de 
village.  I  deals  not  in  pork." 

There  was  a  cheer   for   Mr.    Rosenstein ;   and  a 


THE  FLOOD  AND    THE  END.  269 

dozen  men  set  off  towards  the  upper  dam  with  more 
powder,  and  a  new  idea. 

"We  have  done  enough  for  one  day,"  said  Deacon 
Farnham  after  he  had  seen  that  squad  set  out. 
"  We  can  afford  to  go  home.  —  Mrs.  Stebbins,  you 
and  Vosh  can  take  dinner  with  us,  and  Susie  and 
Port  can  read  their  letters." 

All  were  entirely  willing,  and  the  team  headed  for 
home  as  if  they  were  conscious  of  having  done  some- 
thing for  the  public  good.  The  village  post-office 
was  kept  in  Mr.  Rosenstein's  store,  and  that  was 
one  reason  why  the  letters  had  been  received  in 
such  an  hour  of  excitement.  They  were  not  read 
until  after  the  arrival  at  the  farmhouse,  for  every 
one  in  that  sleigh  was  looking  back  into  the  valley 
to  see  whether  or  not  the  flood  was  visibly  subsid- 
ing. Even  after  they  reached  the  house,  Vosh  said 
he  felt  as  if  he  were  about  to  hear  the  explosion  at 
the  upper  dam.  He  did  not  hear  it ;  but  the  ice 
there  was  blown  open,  nevertheless,  and  the  river 
had  a  fair  chance  to  carry  all  its  surplus  down 
stream,  and  melt  it  up  instead  of  making  dams  of  it. 

Porter  Hudson  was  the  first  to  tear  open  an 
envelope. 

"Susie!"  he  shouted  almost  instantly,  "mother's 
got  home." 

Her  fingers  were  busy  with  her  own  letter  for  a 
moment,  and  then  she  turned  to  Mrs.  Farnham. 


2/0  WINTER  FUN. 

"Aunt  Sarah!" 

"  O  Susie !  I  know  what  you  mean.  They  want 
you  at  home." 

"  Yes,"  said  aunt  Judith,  "  I  suppose  we've  got  to 
say  good-by  to  'em  pretty  soon." 

"And  there's  no  winter  at  all  in  the  city,"  said 
Port.  "  No  snow  to  be  seen,  and  some  of  the  buds 
are  beginning  to  show." 

The  letters  had  a  powerful  effect  upon  all  the 
gathering  around  that  dinner-table ;  and  Pen  thought 
she  had  settled  the  difficulty,  or  nearly  so,  when  she 
broke  a  long  silence  with,  — 

"They  might  just  as  well  all  come  up  here  and 
live.  There's  room  for  'em  all,  and  it's  ever  so  much 
better  than  the  city  is." 

There  was  no  immediate  haste  called  for,  but 
winter  was  over.  Word  came  from  the  village  in 
the  morning,  that  the  flood  was  going  down  fast,  and 
the  mill  was  entirely  safe,  and  that  everybody  was 
talking  about  the  feat  performed  by  Vosh  Stebbins. 
It  looked  as  if  Mr.  Farnham's  part  of  it  was  a  little 
neglected,  and  Pen  remarked  with  some  jealousy, — 

"  Father  got  the  powder,  and  all  Vosh  did  was  to 
touch  it  off." 

Everybody  seemed  to  feel  blue  that  evening,  for 
some  reason  ;  and  the  thaw  carried  away  almost  all 
the  snow  there  was  left,  with  hardly  a  remark  being 
made  about  it.  The  fire  in  the  sitting-room  burned 


THE  FLOOD  AND    THE  END.  2/1 

low,  and  no  fresh  logs  were  heaped  upon  it.  Susie 
sat  in  front  of  it,  and  remembered  a  summer  day 
when  she  had  seen  nothing  there  but  polished  and- 
irons, and  branches  of  fennel. 

"Port,"  said  Corry  almost  mournfully,  "I  do  hope 
you've  had  a  good  time.  We  all  want  you  to  come 
again." 

"  Good  time  !  Tell  you  what,  Corry,  I  won't  come 
up  here  unless  you'll  come  and  visit  us  in  the  city. 
I've  been  thinking  over  lots  of  things  I  could  show 
you  and  Pen.  I've  had  the  biggest  kind  of  a  time." 

"You  must  come  up  some  time  in  summer,"  said 
aunt  Judith.  "The  country  is  beautiful  then.  Bet- 
ter fishing,  hunting — all  sorts  of  fun." 

"  I  guess  there  isn't  any  thing  better  than  winter 
fun,"  said  Susie  thoughtfully.  "  I  do  like  the  coun- 
try at  any  time  of  the  year." 

Vosh  Stebbins  and  his  mother  also  sat  in  front 
of  their  sitting-room  fireplace,  and  were  uncommonly 
still  and  sober. 

"  Mother,"  said  he  at  last,  "  I've  had  the  greatest 
winter  I  ever  did  have.  There's  been  any  amount 
of  fun  in  it,  but  seems  to  me  there's  been  a  good 
deal  more." 

"  Yes,"  said  his  mother,  "  they've  been  right  good 
company,  and  I'm  real  sorry  to  hev  'em  go ;  but  it's 
time  they  went,  and  her  mother's  health's  come 
back  to  her.  She's  one  of  the  best  of  women,  I 


272  U'lXTER  FUN. 

haven't  the  least  doubt  in  the  world.  I  never  seen 
a  girl  I  took  to  more'n  I  hcv  to  Susie  Hudson,  and  I 
hope  she  and  Port'll  come  up  here  again ;  and  I've 
been  a-findin'  out  how  much  it'll  cost  to  hev  you  go 
to  college,  and  you've  got  to  jest  study  up  and  go." 

"  Mother ! "  That  was  all  he  could  say ;  for  his 
mind  had  been  playing  chess  with  that  problem  since 
he  did  not  know  exactly  when,  and  he  had  not  dared 
to  speak  of  it. ' 

One  week  later  the  Farnham  and  Stebbins  farm- 
houses felt  smaller  and  lonelier,  and  Penelope  teased 
for  a  pen  and  ink,  remarking,  — 

"  If  I  write  to  Susie  right  away,  it  may  get  there 
almost  as  soon  as  she  does,  and  she  won't  have  to 
wait  for  it  to  come." 

The  rest  of  the  family  and  their  neighbors  had 
their  hands  full  of  spring  work,  aid  had  no  time  to 
think  much  of  their  recent  visitors  ;  but  their  visitors 
were  thinking  of  them.  A  lady  and  gentleman  in  a 
city  home  were  listening  to  prolonged  and  full  ac- 
counts of  their  children's  winter  in  the  country,  and 
every  now  and  then  the  gentleman  exclaimed,  — 

"  Vosh  Stebbins  again  !  "  At  the  end  of  it  all,  he 
said  to  his  wife,  — 

"  My  dear,  did  you  know  that  youngsters  of  that 
kind  were  scarce  ?  I  must  keep  an  eye  on  him. 
Susie  says  he's  to  have  an  education.  Got  a  good 
beginning  for  one  now,  I  should  say.  If  he  should 


THE  FLOOD  AND    THE  END.  2?$ 

go  straight,  there's  no  telling  what  he  might  do.  He 
can  graduate  from  college  into  my  office,  if  he  wishes 
to.  I  knew  his  father,  and  his  mother's  as  good  as 
gold." 

"  Hurrah !"  shouted  Port.  "Then  Vosh  can  kill 
his  bears  in  the  city.  How'd  you  like  that,  Susie? 
I'd  like  it." 

Susie  only  turned  to  her  mother,  and  asked,  — 

"What  do  you  think,  mother  ?  " 

"  I  ?  Oh,  we  will  have  plenty  of  time  to  think  it 
over.  We  can  go  up  there  and  visit,  and  we  can 
have  them  down  here." 

Nevertheless  Vosh  did  go  to  college,  and  he  did 
pass  from  it  to  Mr.  Hudson's  law-office ;  and  it  is 
true,  to  this  day,  that  nobody  can  tell  what  he  will 
do,  he  is  doing  so  much  and  so  well. 


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SCRIBNER'S    STANDARD    JUVENILE    BOOKS. 


FRANK    R.    STOCKTON'S    POPULAR    STORIES. 


THE    STORY    OF    VITEAU. 

With  sixteen  full-page  illustrations  by  R.  B.  BIRCH. 
O)ie  volume,  I2mo,  extra  cloth.     $1.50. 

In  "  The  Story  of  Viteau,"  Mr.  Stockton  has  opened  a  new  vein,  and  one  that  he 
has  shown  all  his  well-known  skill  and  ability  in  working.  While  describing  the  life 
and  surroundings  of  Raymond,  Louis,  and  Agnes  at  Viteau  at  the  Castle  of  De  l>ar- 
ran,  or  in  the  woods  among  the  Cotereaux,  he  gives  a  picture  of  France  in  the  age 
of  chivalry,  and  tells,  at  the  same  time,  a  romantic  and  absorbing  story  of  adventure 
and  knightly  daring.  Mr.  Birch's  spirited  illustrations  add  much  to  the  attraction  of 
the  book. 

A    JOLLY    FELLOWSHIP. 

Illustrated.     One  volume,  I2»io,  extra  cloth.     $1.30. 

"  '  A  Jolly  Fellowship,"  by  Mr.  Frank  Stockton,  is  a  worthy  successor  to  his  '  Rud- 
der Grange.'  Although  written  for  lads,  it  is  full  of  delicious  nonsense  that  will  be 
enjoyed  by  men  and  women.  .  .  .  The  less  serious  parts  are  described  with  a  mock 
gravity  that  is  the  perfection  of  harmless  burlesque,  while  all  the  nonsense  has  a  vein 
of  good  sense  running  through  it,  so  that  really  useful  information  is  conveyed  to  the 
young  and  untravelled  reader's  mind."  —  Philadelphia  Evening  Bulletin. 


THE     FLOATING-     PRINCE,    AND     OTHER 
FAIRY    TALES. 

With  illustrations  by  BENSELL  and  others.     One  volume,  quarto,  boards.     $1.50. 

"  Stockton  has  the  knack,  perhaps  penius  would  be  a  better  word,  of  writing  in  the 
easiest  of  colloquial  English,  without  descending  to  the  plane  of  the  vulgar  or  common- 
place. The  very  perfection  of  his  work  hinders  the  reader  from  perceiving  at  once 
how  good  of  its  kind  it  is.  ...  With  the  added  charm  of  a  most  delicate  humor,  — 
a  real  humor,  mellow,  tender,  and  informed  by  a  singularly  quaint  and  racy  fancy, 
—  his  stories  become  irresistibly  attractive."  —  Philadelphia  Times. 

NEW    EDITIONS    OF    OLD     FAVORITES. 


ROUNDABOUT    RAMBLES    IN    LANDS    OF 
FACT     AND    FICTION. 

One  volume,  quarto,  boards,  with  very  attractive  lithographed  cover,  three  hundred  and 
seventy  pages,  two  hundred  illustrations.  A  new  edition.  Price  reduced  from 
$3.00  to  $1.50. 

TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

One  volume,  quarto,  boards,  with  handsome  lithographed  cover,  three  hundred  and 
fifty  pages,  nearly  two  hundred  illustrations.  A  new  edition.  Price  reduced  from 
$3.00  to  $1.50. 


Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  Publishers,  743  and  745  Broadway,  New  York. 


SCRIBNER'S    STANDARD    JUVENILE    BOOKS. 


WILLIAM    O.   STODDARD'S   CAPITAL   STORIES    FOR    BOYS. 


DAB    KINZER 

A    STORY    OF    A    GROWING    BOY. 

One  volume,  I2»io,  three  hundred  and  thirty  pages.     $1.00. 

"  The  book  is  enlivened  with  a  racy  and  genuine  humor.  It  is,  moreover,  not.tbly 
healthy  in  its  tone,  and  in  every  way  is  just  the  thing  for  boys."  —  Philadelphia 
North  American. 

"  It  is  full  of  fun,  liveliness,  and  entertainment.  Dab  Kinzer  will  be  voted  a  good 
fellow,  whether  at  home,  at  school,  or  out  fishing."  —  Portland  1'ress. 


THE    QUARTET. 

A    SEQUEL    TO    "DAB    KINZER." 
One  volume,  12 mo,  three  hundred  and  thirty  pages.     $i  oo. 

"  The  boys  who  rend  '  Dab  Kinzer  '  will  be  df  lighted  with  '  The  Quartet.'  It  is  the 
story  of  Dab's  school  and  college  life,  and  certainly  equals  the  former  story  in  interest. 
In  a  literary  point  of  view,  it  ranks  among  the  best  of  its  kind.  There  are  few  writers 
of  boys'  bookfcwho  present  lx>y-li(e  in  the  strong,  sympathetic,  manly  way  that  Mr. 
St»dd.ird  docs.  His  good  boys  are  genuine,  fun-loving,  careless,  but  royal-hearted. 
In  the  words  of  one  of  their  admirers,  '  They're  a  fine  lot,  take  'em  all  round.' "  — 
Boston  fast. 

SALTILLO    BOYS. 

Onevolume,  time,  three  hundred  and  sixty-right  pages.     $1.00. 

Mr.  Stnddird's  stories  for  boys  grow  better  and  better  every  year.  Good  as  were 
"  I).it>  Kin/er"  and  the"  Quartet,"  SALTILLO  1'mvs  surpasses  them  in  its  narrative  of 
bright,  manly,  and  yet  thoroughly  boy-like  life  in  an  inland  town,  whose  actual  name 
and  locality  may  be  shrewdly  guessed  by  those  familiar  with  its  characteristics.  The 
incidents  are  thoroughly  boyish,  and  yet  quite  free  from  frivolity.  The  drift  of  the 
book  is  wholly  on  the  side  of  frank,  intelligent,  and  self-reliant  manliness:  and  it  is 
i;nj"issible  for  any  boy  to  read  it  without  absorbing  a  love  for  nobility  of  character, 
and  forming  higher  aspirations. 


AMONG    THE    LAKES. 

One  •volume,  izmo.     $1.00. 


»*»Mr.  Stoddard's  stories,  "DAB  KINZER,"  "THE  QUARTET," 
"SALTILLO  BOYS,"  and  "AMONG  THE  LAKES,"  are  furnished  in 
sets,  in  uniform  binding,  in  a  box.  Price  $4.00. 

Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  Publishers,  743  and  745  Broadway,  New  York. 


THis  book  is  DUE  on  the  last 
date  stamped  below 


JAN    3  1952 
DEC  2  9  198f 


5m-6,'41(8644) 


THE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
JUOS  ANGELES 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

AA    000483863    7 


PZ7 
886-w 


